Sherwood
by Insertusernamehere27
Summary: Robin Hood: A legend but so much more is left unsaid. A year has passed since Allen followed Robin into their new lives as outlaws but something troubles him. Something about an unknown past. Love and adventure combine as a gang fights for freedom, justice and their lives.
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

 _1189 – Barnsdale_

 _Allen was about to die._

 _He sat in his favourite chair, looking across to the empty chair. A space that would never be filled again._

 _Time became an odd thing. It could have stretched on for eternity or raced by in an instance. Allen simply sat, staring out into nothingness._

 _Finally, he heard the sound of hoof beats, pounding upon a distant trail. They were coming._

 _He sat still, awaiting._

 _The sound of a chain turning informed him that the portcullis was being raised._

 _He stood, wishing to face his death with dignity as the clear sound of footsteps grew nearer and nearer._

 _And finally, the door crashed open and a single figure entered, dark green hood pulled over, cloaking his face in shadow. A large longbow was in his hand with an arrow nocked and pointed at the ready. "I trust that I need no introduction."_

 _"_ _Robin Hood," Allen said, breathing out the words._

 _Even through the shadow, Allen could tell that the man smiled. "I seek the Sheriff of Nottingham," he said loudly. It was obvious that this was a man who was used to being obeyed. This made it all the more grand when Allen simply laughed. And continued to laugh. He found that he could not help himself._

 _"_ _I'm sorry," he sputtered between his laughter. "But…" He was unable to finish as he laughed on._

 _"_ _You dare defy me?" Robin said, with more surprise than anger._

 _Allen sunk back into the chair, chuckling behind his hand._

 _"_ _Robin!" The door was pushed open once more and three more men entered. "Is everything alright?" the largest one grunted, looking at the odd scene._

 _"_ _Yes…" Robin said with uncertainty. "This man is obviously mad," he said under his breath. Allen heard him but cared not._

 _"_ _That is Lord Allen," another said, looking him up and down. "Son of the Sheriff."_

 _The third approached Allen, sword at the ready. "So I suggest that he begin talking. Tell us where we can find your Father!"_

 _"_ _Oh well you're a little late for that," Allen said pleasantly. "You see; he was killed— a few hours ago."_

 _No one believed him. The man leapt forward, placing the sword tip to Allen's throat. "Speak you dog!"_

 _Allen looked up to his attacker with mild interest. He recognised the man from the many wanted posters that scattered the walls of Nottingham. His skin was sun tanned, obviously from past work in the fields. His dark hair was tied back. The main thing of noticde was the large scar that ran along the left side of his face. It began at his hairline, running through his brow, just missing his eye and jutting down his dark cheek. "Will Scarlet," Allen said in recognition._

 _Will responded by drawing the sword closer. "Congratulations. Now answer the question."_

 _"_ _He may not know anything," the large man said doubtfully. Allen knew who he was simply by his size— he stood at least a head above the others - alongside his shaggy brown hair and beard. "Little John."_

 _"_ _Is this your way of stalling?" the third man said. "And if so, I suppose you are going to inform me own my own name next."_

 _Allen studied the man. His most prominent feature was his red hair. But behind that he was still a well-built man with dark eyes that informed Allen of danger. "Red Roger," he said with a small smile._

 _Little John snickered slightly as Roger scowled. "Roger will do fine," he said, scratching at his hair forcefully, obviously hating it._

 _"_ _Hasn't this been a wonderful game of introductions?" Robin said as he drew his bow. "Now it's your turn. Take us to your Father."_

 _Allen held up his hands. "As I told you, he died. What more can I say?"_

 _They were interrupted by the familiar sound of hoof beats. Only this time, it was louder. There were a considerable amount of horses approaching. Far more than there had been before._

 _"_ _This is a set up!" Will yelled. Pressing his sword closer still._

 _Allen could feel blood beginning to trickle down his neck. "I already told you! My Father is dead! And unless you want to join him, I suggest you run."_

 _"_ _We run from no one," Robin said firmly._

 _"_ _Well if you sought a Sheriff, I would say that you are about to be reprieved. I imagine that the new Sheriff accompanies these men as they come to finish the job. They killed my Father and now they come to kill me so I keep my silence."_

 _Will dragged Allen with him as he turned to the window, gazing down at the courtyard bellow. Suddenly Allen found himself stumbling as Will released him with a gasp. "It's him!' Will said with fury. "The man who killed my Father!"_

 _Allen glimpsed down. "Mine too," he said quietly._

 _Robin drew his sword. "Well, men. Shall we go and give them an appropriate greeting?"_

 _They all smiled darkly. "Don't think that we have forgotten about you," Robin said as he turned. Allen knew that those were not just words._

 _It was a promise._

* * *

 _Roger ran a little behind his comrades as they descended the great staircase. "Do you think he was telling the truth?"_

 _"_ _Who?" Robin asked, stopping suddenly as he decided he was in prime placement. All his focus went to positioning the arrow in his hand._

 _Roger rolled his eyes. "Do you ever pay attention?" All he gained was an eye roll as Robin tested the strength of the arrow. "So what is the plan exactly?"_

 _Robin just shrugged. Roger and John looked to each other with slight worry._

 _"_ _We kill him," Will snarled._

 _The worry on John and Roger only grew. "Are you mad?" John said. "We can't just kill a Sheriff."_

 _"_ _He deserves no less," Will said darkly, slowly drawing forth his sword._

 _Roger knew that there was only one man Will would listen to. "Robin, aren't you going to stop him?"_

 _One again, in an infuriating fashion, Robin simply shrugged. "One dead Sheriff is no great loss to us."_

 _Roger and John looked to each other once again as the other two men snuck away, ready for the great doors to be opened. "Do you think we made a mistake?" John asked quietly, ensuring that he was no over heard._

 _Roger did not answer straight away. "This is above us. Just follow orders."_

 _John shook his head but drew his sword._

 _Meanwhile, Robin had grown tired of waiting and had burst the great doors open himself. He was met with the sight of one man, surrounded by ten armoured guards. "Is that all?" he said with a chuckle._

 _The man turned to face him. He was tall and broad and despite his age, he looked dangerous. There was cruelty behind his eyes as he slowly took in the sight of the hooded stranger. "Hood," he said calmly, with the complete absence of fear. "It seems that at last we meet."_

 _"_ _You will be the new Sheriff I presume," Robin said. "What happened to Lord Dale? I was under the impression that his bid had been met for control of Nottingham."_

 _The Sheriff smiled darkly. "Well it would seem that Prince John and Dale had a disagreement. They had different views on taxes. Dale thought that our sovereign was being unjust. His punishment put him in place."_

 _"_ _It's a shame," Robin said. "I quite liked him. You however…"_

 _The Sheriff sighed. "Am I sensing that you and I are to be enemies, Hood?"_

 _Robin responded by charging forward, ready to attack. His men followed suit and they met the guards with a mighty clash of swords. It was mere moments before blood began to spatter forth as guard after guard met a bloody demise. Robin's skill was clear as he slashed around with a mad reckoning. He did not see faces, only obstacles. Roger and John showed skill as well, but they showed a reluctance to kill. This near proved fatal as one guard feigned defeat, falling to the cobbled stones. Once he was still, Roger turned away. And this was when the man rose to deliver a fatal strike. Robin was there in an instant, slicing at the man's neck. His blow was not strong and the head did not come away cleanly. Blood gushed forward and covered the bodies nearest to it as well the victim._

 _In all of the madness, the Sheriff had mounted his horse, urgently steering it toward the raised portcullis. "No!" Will roared, racing after him, despite his comrade's yells. He leapt astride a horse tethered nearby, slashing at its bridle. It mattered not, the battle was won. The loss of one man did not hurt their odds as Robin stabbed his sword deeply into the final man._

 _"_ _You killed again," Roger said into the silence._

 _Robin groaned, rolling his eyes. "Well observed," he said as he pulled hard to free his sword from the corpse._

 _"_ _These men were just following orders," John said, looking to one of the bodies. He was still practically a boy._

 _"_ _Would you have preferred that we were the ones lying there?" Robin said coldly, wiping his sword on the tunic of one of the dead. "I did what was necessary."_

 _"_ _I was just—" Roger began but Robin cut him off._

 _"_ _Who is in charge here? I am your leader and so you shall obey me! I am sick of you judging my orders. I am the hero of England! Stealing from the rich and giving to the poor! Nottingham needs me. Not you! You are just here to support me in numbers."_

 _Roger and John were silent._

 _"_ _And another thing—"_

 _Suddenly the air was full of the sound of an arrow flying free. Roger looked down to himself. He was clear. Looking to John, he saw that he too was safe._

 _And then Robin fell. And Roger saw the arrow protruding from his right shoulder. "Get them!" Robin choked out._

 _But before Roger could reach for his bow, another arrow was flying free. This one landed in the back of Robin's leg. He howled in pain._

 _Roger nocked an arrow, sending it off to meet the archer standing at the entrance. But not before the archer had sent free one final arrow._

 _This one went flying straight through Robin's neck._

 _Roger stood very still as John slowly sunk down to inspect their leader. All the while, he desperately prayed that it was all a mistake._

 _But there was no denying it._

 _Robin Hood was dead._

 _John sighed, looking up to Roger to confirm. "He's gone," he said quietly._

 _And for a moment, there was a horrid silence as the fact sunk in. He truly was gone._

 _Roger rubbed at his temple. "Bloody hell," he muttered._

 _"_ _Well, this is a damn inconvenience," John said with another sigh as he heaved the body up slightly. Despite his considerable size, John struggled slightly. Robin had been a well built man, with a large stocky frame that struck fear into the heart of all enemy. At least, it used to._

 _"_ _What do you think you're doing?" Roger asked in confusion._

 _John used the tip of his sword to free the man's quiver. "No sense wasting decent arrows."_

 _"_ _Your grief overwhelms me," Roger said._

 _"_ _Because you are so overcome yourself?" John said with a chuckle. "Come off it. You hated the little blighter as much as I did."_

 _"_ _Be that as it may, we still needed him. What are we to do now?"_

 _John sighed deeply. "First things first. We find Will."_

 _"_ _I was thinking more in the broader sense."_

 _John sighed. He knew full what to what his friend was referring. But he feared that he did not have an answer._

 _John eased Robin's blade from his bloodied hand. It was a fine blade. Suitable for a hero. Now it was just a bloodied mess. He raised it instantly at the sound of footsteps. But it was only Will, returning in anger. His face reflected the defeat. It only worsened when he saw the body. "Robin's dead?" he said in shock. The shock was quickly replaced by a shrug. "Can I have his sword?"_

 _"_ _Has no one heard of respect for the dead?" Roger asked in exasperation. John and Will were too busy divvying out the arrows to notice._

 _Will eventually shrugged. "He was alright, I guess. Not much of a leader. If it hadn't been for his skill with a blade, we wouldn't have needed him. And in complete honesty, I was better with a bow than him."_

 _"_ _So do you want to lead us then?" Roger asked angrily. "We all need to focus."_

 _"_ _And you need to calm down," John said soothingly._

 _"_ _And you need to stop telling me what to do!"_

 _All John had to do was raise his cudgel and Roger was silent. John could be a terrifying sight when he wanted to be. "Now listen here. We came tonight to seek an alliance with the new Sheriff. Unfortunately, we were too late and he is dead. But we still got what we came for. We came to see if the Sheriff was to be a friend or foe. And needless to say, we have made an enemy. Now, I suggest we rummage around, take any valuables and be on our way."_

 _Roger nodded._

* * *

 _Allen had watched from behind a pillar and at the mention of his Father's possession, his anger boiled over. He knew that he stood no chance against three men whilst he stood alone. And maybe that is what spurred him on. The thought of a welcome death. He came out from his hiding place, walking slowly toward them. He stooped slightly to draw up a sword from a fallen guard and stood to face them._

 _They turned in surprise, swords also drawn. Will laughed coldly. "Put it down," he said darkly._

 _But Allen refused, he only raised it higher._

 _John looked to him with a hint of sadness. "Don't be a fool."_

 _Roger raised an arm, blocking Will in place. "How much do you think he would seek for a ransom?"_

 _"_ _Did you not see those men?" Allen asked, speaking as if he faced a child. "They were here to kill me. I thoroughly doubt that I have many friends at court."_

 _Roger studied him. "You want to die, don't you?"_

 _Allen stood still. "I want you to fight me."_

 _"_ _John, tie him up. We will take him back to Sherwood and decide what to do from there."_

 _Allen backed away, pointing his sword. But John dove forward with surprising speed. His cudgel knocked Allen's sword away and he gripped him an unbelievably tight grasp. Will ran off to collect the nearest three horses that the Sheriff had left behind and smiled in victory as John tied a long piece of rope around Allen's hands. This rope was then tied to the back of a saddle. Allen realised that it was their intention to drag him._

 _"_ _Stop!" A voice rang out through the courtyard. Allen turned to see his best friend, Robert had caught up with him. He had seemingly snuck though his secret entrance and cut through the manor. He now stood on the opposite side of the courtyard to their horses and could clearly not make it in time._

 _"_ _Let's go!' Roger called to the others, quickly mounting his horse._

 _"_ _Whatever happened to never running from a fight?" Will grumbled as he did the same._

 _"_ _Robin died, that's what," Roger called back, already spurring his horse into a gallop. The sudden surprise took Allen by surprise as he was instantly swept off his feet and meet the ground with a burst of pain._

 _Robert stopped once he descended the staircase, pulling forth his bow. He raised it and felt all worries escape his mind. With one breath he released an arrow. It went soaring across the courtyard but did not head toward any of the outlaws. Instead, it flew toward the portcullis, or more specifically, the pin that the chain in place. Once the arrow was free, the man was clear to worry._

 _But the arrow flew true and hit his target with just enough strength to nudge the pin. It loosened enough that the gate came tumbling down, causing Roger to heave upon his reigns, else be flattened. His horse reared and he tumbled free. The other two were forced to also heave their horses to a stop and clasp on for dear life. Roger quickly rose to his feet, turning to face his attacker._

 _Robert flung his bow aside, running forward to meet the outlaws with a sword in his hand. When he reached them, he stood staunch, sword held in a tight grip. "Let my friend go," he said darkly._

 _But all Roger could do was smile. "Who are you?"_

 _The man was unsettled as he expected the other to attack any moment. "Robert," he said._

 _Roger's eyes lit up. "It's not such a stretch." He looked back to the other outlaws who looked blank. "Oh come on. Tell me that you are not thinking the exact same thing."_

 _Robert was unnerved by their lack of action. "Unhand him now!"_

 _"_ _Oh fair enough," Roger said pleasantly, drawing his sword._

 _Allen squeezed his eyes closed but did not feel the expected pain. Instead, he felt his bindings turn loose. He had cut the bindings. He did not wait for him to change his mind, running instantly to Robert and feeling suddenly safe._

 _Roger continued to look at Robert in an odd fashion. "Do you ever feel that you are living a wasted life?"_

 _Robert remained staunch. "I am quite content."_

 _"_ _Well you shouldn't be."_

 _"_ _And? What is your point? Since when do villains like yourself care about my life decisions?"_

 _"_ _Villains? I can assure you, we are no villains. Sit down Robin, we clearly have some explaining to do."_

 _"_ _My name is Robert."_

 _Roger smiled. As did the others. "Not anymore."_


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Sherwood Forest. Many would call it mighty and majestic. Robin simply called it home.

The sun had finally surfaced, gleaming its light across the treetops. This suited Robin just fine. He had never fared well to the cold but no outlaw shied away from a small sprinkling of snow. All the same, he wrapped his cloak around himself, trying to stifle the shiver that crept along his spine. He sat atop a large branch, stretched over the main road, waiting patiently. But time did have a way of dragging. He pulled his legs as close to himself as he dared in a futile attempt to maintain warm. Breathing on his hands, he noted how his breath came forth in a white mist. Rolling his eyes, he stretched as far as he dared and continued to begrudgingly watch the road.

Looking across the trail, he spied his best friend, Allen, seated in an opposing tree. Robin sighed, as he saw the fool had fallen asleep. Whilst barely making a sound, Robin descended from his tree, and climbed.

Allen awoke with a start, certain that he had heard something. Groaning, he realised that he was still in the damned tree, looking out toward the damned road on this damned cold morning.

He looked around quickly but saw no movement. There was nothing around him. Not even a gust of wind rustling the leaves. Until something leapt down beside him, almost causing him to plummet from the branch with fright.

"Robin!" he exclaimed, angrily clutching on to the branch with little more than his fingertips. Judging the fall, he gave way and dropped to the forest floor, landing with a painful thud. "That could have gone a lot worse you know!"

Robin only laughed as he leapt down from the branch. Needless to say, there was a lot more grace in his landing than that of his friend. "Will you stop being so sensitive?"

Allen looked to his friend, once more astounded at the change in him. His transformation over the past year still astounded Allen. For he still remembered his friend before the madness of outlaws and taxes. He had been an ordinary man. And before that, they had been children together. Yet somehow, Robin had grown into the kind of man that made his enemies tremble and women swoon. He was tall and his body considerably toned. His green eyes shone with life. He flicked his head once more to knock back a lock of his dark chestnut brown hair. But it fell straight back. Even his hair was stubborn.

"The trail is dead," Robin said, clearly conveying his boredom. "I've already sent the rest of the men back to camp."

"And yet you leave me up the cold?" Allen seethed.

"I have to amuse myself somehow."

Robin watched his friend stoop to collect the remainder of his fallen possessions. He looked up suddenly, saying, "Do you realise what today is?"

Robin never liked to allow bafflement to show, but he definitely felt it. Flicking back a lock of hair from his forehead, he said, "No but I'm sure that you are about to take pleasure in enlightening me."

"It was one year ago that we first became outlaws."

Robin looked surprised at the answer, quickly thinking it over. He chuckled quietly. "I guess it is."

Allen sighed. "Is that all you're going to say? No, 'that is cause to celebrate,' or 'Thank you to my inspiring friend who stuck with me through it all?"

"It is a cause to celebrate, isn't it?" Robin said with pride, thinking on his past endeavors.

Allen rolled his eyes at his own lack of recognition but had to admit that Robin had reason to be proud. From what they understood, Robin was the fifth man to bear the title of 'Robin Hood.' After the original outlaw was killed, one of his men took over the name. He was slain a few weeks later and another surpassed him. That third man held the previous record of three months. Followed by the man Allen had seen killed. Roger and John had joined the Merry Men during the reign of the second Robin Hood and that was all Allen knew. And that bothered him. He frowned as he thought on this. "Do you ever wonder about who started all of this? About the original Robin Hood?"

"No," Robin shrugged, staring out into Sherwood. But the pair had been friends for a long time and Robin could tell when something was bothering his friend. "Why?" he asked, cautiously.

"I hate to say this. I really do. But I don't trust Roger."

Robin tried his hardest to be supportive but he could not help but laugh. "Oh come on Allen," he said in response to his friends glare. "Roger has proven himself countless times! We can trust him. And besides, he has been at this longer than we have. Why don't you mistrust any of the new Merry Men? Surely they have more cause to betray us. And we have gained a fair few of them."

The act of knowing the other worked two ways. And Allen could instantly tell that there was not an inch of Robin that could mistrust Roger. It was obvious that he was fighting a losing battle. "You're probably right," he said quietly, staring out to Sherwood once more.

Robin sighed. "Hey, what did you say to me on the day we were both rejected as squires? And again on the day we were outlawed?"

"I promise to try and help?"

"Exactly," Robin said with a strong gaze. Allen sighed. He both know how the world works. Promising to help was useless. Because fate is always beyond what they could achieve. Some things are unchangeable through no fate of our own. But the act of trying alone should be good enough.

Allen smiled, despite himself. "You big softy' he said, laughing." "So shall we go?"

Robin looked out the trail. "Actually I was going to head to Nottingham. Wilfred is on duty in the square today."

Allen shuddered at the thought of their old mentor. "Give him my greetings."

"So you won't join us for a wonderful session of reminiscing about the good times?"

Allen laughed. "I think I can safely say that you are very adept at avoiding all memories of the past." He stopped laughing immediately as he realised what he said. Both men were suddenly very quiet. "I'm sorry, I didn't think-"

"It doesn't matter," Robin said quickly, cutting him off.

Allen sighed. "I know that she-"

" _I said, I doesn't matter_!" Robin said, with sudden fury.

Allen took a few steps back, knowing to finally keep his mouth shut.

Robin recovered himself, forcing a smile. "So you're sure that you won't join me?"

"I have a few things to do back at camp," Allen said with a smile. He did not add what his intentions were.

For it was finally time that he confronted Roger.


	3. Barnsdale

_Robert had seen pain and known heartbreak. And this was all before he was seven years of age. He was alone and this was all he had ever known. There were brief memories of his Mother but all loving and warm memories were pushed away by the image of watching her bleed to death before him. So he was constantly moving onward to new towns, begging where he could, stealing more often than not and fleeing the memories._

 _Allen thought that he knew pain. He also thought he knew terror as he fled, crying in fear from the sword that slashed at him. He tried not to weep, clutching his own sword even tighter. But panic paralysed him in place. The sword came swinging forward on final time, stopping one inch shy of his throat. All that could be hear was small sobs of fear._

 _Withdrawing, Wilfred sighed as he returned his sword to his scabbard as he walked up the courtyard. "I'm sorry, Lord Steffon," he said gruffly. "But I just don't think that your son is appropriate squire material."_

 _Allen's Father was trying his best to hide his desperation. He placed his hand around Wilfred's arm, leading him away slightly. "Look," he said quietly, not wanting Allen to overhear. "Allen is my second son. My eldest shall inherit my lands in a few years and Allen will have nothing. He needs this!"_

 _"_ _And I sympathize," Wilfred said, though it was clear by his tone that he did not, "But don't you think that every Lord tells me a similar story? I can only take the best possible candidates and I can already see that he will never have what it takes."_

 _"_ _You saw him fight for a matter of moments!"_

 _"_ _That was because I defeated him in a matter of moments."_

 _"_ _The boy is but eight years old! How long do you really expect him to withstand a fully grown knight?"_

 _Wilfred looked toward Allen who pretended to busy himself with his tunic. "I am not looking for skill," he said, "I am looking for potential. And I am sorry but that boy has none."_

 _His words should have hurt. But Allen cared very little. He had no wish to be a squire anyway._

 _Robin watched the older boy with a sense of pity but quickly turned away to climb back through the hole he had snuck through. There was a nearby apple tree that could provide him with adequate spoils._

 _Unfortunately for him, Allen had taken a similar route, hiding from prying eyes by slipping through the same hole._

 _Robin watched the other boy approach, frozen in the act of shoving apples into his tunic. He could tell by the attire of the other that this boy was a Noble. And in his experience, Nobles did not take kindly to the likes of him._

 _Finally, Allen noticed that he was not alone. He too remained still, waiting for the other to act. Neither did._

 _"_ _You won't take many that way," Allen said, pulling the strap of his satchel over his head. "Better take this." He held out the small leather satchel, waiting for Robin to take it._

 _Robin refused to move, convinced it was a trick. Allen sighed, moving forward to pick up fallen apples and placing them safely away. "We have more than enough for us," he said in explanation._

 _"_ _I don't need your help!" Robin said angrily. "I don't need anyone!"_

 _That was the first instance in which Allen used the gaze given to one of stupidity. This was to be used a great deal more in their time together. "Clearly you do," he said, ignoring the anger and continuing to fill until the clasp could not meet. "So take it, would you?" He laid it by the tree trunk and backed away._

 _Receiving aid was an entirely new concept to Robert but desperation always won out of caution. He quickly darted forward to snatch away the satchel. He knew that he ought to race off, in case this Noble boy changed his mind. In the same way, Allen knew that he ought to return back, in case he was missed. But neither moved. In truth, they were both incredibly lonely. Other children feared Allen, being the son of a Lord. And being wise beyond his years had gained him a rather impressive ego that made him horrible to be around. Robert simply never had the chance to meet anyone. In future, Allen liked to say that their souls instantly recognised each other as best friends and they were unable to tear themselves away. Robert said he had been hoping for more food._

 _"_ _What were you doing fighting that man?" Robert asked._

 _"_ _He's a Knight. Father wants him to take me on as a squire."_

 _"_ _Well he won't! You were horrible." Robert knew that he was only trying to be cruel because he was incredibly jealous. And a small part of Allen could sense this._

 _"_ _So do you think you could do better?"_

 _The challenge had been set. And even back then, Robert would never overpass a chance to show off. He had never held a sword before, but he desperately wanted to. So he followed Allen back through the hidden hole back to the courtyard. Everyone else had dwindled off, leaving them completely alone. Or so they thought. Wilfred had been leaning against a pillar, lost in thought when he noticed the two young boys lifting the practice weapons. All he could do was scoff. He had seen Allen fight and though he may have known nothing about this newcomer, he suspected the same amount of 'talent.'_

 _But Robert had something that everyone young Lord lacked. A difficult life. A life of hiding and robbing had given him quick reflexes, strength and speed. He could dodge expertly whenever Allen attempted to hit him. His own blows were returned with uncanny speed and once more Allen found himself being shoved around the courtyard as he desperately tried to defend himself._

 _Wilfred felt his eyes widen in surprise. Suddenly, a very odd idea began to form._

 _Two weeks later, Robert and Allen found themselves travelling to Derbyshire, under the patronage of Lord Dale who was to sponsor both children training to become squires. Wilfred watched his two young students ride, full of excitement and promise._

 _Robin remembered that day well. It was the first time he had ever felt hope._


	4. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Allen always felt at peace when he entered camp. This was strange for camp was always beautifully chaotic. Shouting voices and the clashing of weapons drowned out all of Sherwood's peaceful sounds.

On that particular afternoon, Allen was nearly flattened as he almost walked straight into the sparring of Will and Benny. This was no surprise. Will spent every waking moment training, in the hopes of one day inflicting his revenge upon the Sheriff for the murder of his Father. Young Benny was only a slip of a lad, barely more than sixteen years of age. Robin had initially refused him entrance to the Merry Men but Benny refused to take no for an answer. He fought Will to prove his skill, although he was clearly losing. The small lad was bright red in the face, his brown hair slicked back with sweat.

"Watch it!" A strong hand grabbed Allen by the back of his tunic and pulled him away. Little John beamed down at him as he pulled him over to a nearby log.

"Benny still trying to prove himself?" Allen said.

Benny's eyes slitted as he yelled, "my name is Benjamin!"

John chuckled. "A wise man once said, 'the road to discovery is not easily attained.' I commend the lad for his continuous effort."

"And by chance, was this 'wise man,' you?"

John shrugged. "A wise man did in fact say those words. It was me, yes."

"John, you can't make up foolish sayings to prove your points."

"Incoming!" Allen was forced to duck quickly, as a rogue arrow flew drastically off course.

A tubby young man raced forward. His face was blushed from the effort of running and the embarrassment of everyone's laughter.

"Watch it, Much!" Allen said, handing him the arrow.

Luke stood back, snickering as he carved a line onto his scoreboard. "Congratulations Much! You managed to miss every single possible target. Quite the feat."

Luke's twin brother, Matthew, nudged him hard in the ribs. "Leave him alone," he said warningly.

"The sun was in my eyes!" Much whined as he ran back to them.

Allen walked on, seeing that once again, Thomas was one of the few Merry Men who thought himself exempt from all training exercises. He chose to delve into the fine art of drinking, something he had long since mastered, but liked to continue a strong practice.

"Quite the bunch, aren't they?"

Allen turned to see who spoke and found his target. Roger leant against a distant tree trunk, observing the group in the same way Allen had. "We picked some real winners, didn't we?"

Allen looked back into the rambunctious group and surprised himself by saying, "fine men, aren't they?"

Roger snorted quietly. "Quite. Oh and by the way, happy anniversary. I'm sure that this significant date has not gone unnoticed by you?"

"Of course, one whole year as outlaws. Tell the truth, did you think we would last this long?"

"I had a strong feeling about Robin, but I thought you would be dead in less than a fortnight."

Thinking this to be the end of their interaction, Roger nodded, turned and walked further into camp, in the general direction of his cabin.

This faired well for Allen as he easily found a way of getting him alone. So he followed along past the small scattering of shabbily built sleeping cabins.

Roger walked on to the small pond, kneeling down to wash his face until he finally noticed his company. He remained as staunch as ever, wearing a mask of no emotion. "Can I help you with something?"

But Allen remained. "Sorry," he mumbled. "It's just that… Something happened a few nights ago."

Roger continued to show little interest. "Is this where I am forced to play the part of your big brother? Because if so, I suggest that you keep moving. Go talk to Robin or something."

Instead of speaking, Allen pulled something from his pocket and held it up for Roger to see. It was a small broach, forged of a dark metal that Allen had been unable to recognise. From what he could gather, it was in the shape of an outline of an eye. An arrow stretch from one side of the inner eye to the other, the point meeting with both creases. Somehow, the mere sight made Roger look as if he may faint. "What is that?" Roger said, trying to hide the alarm from his voice.

Allen flipped it around the palm of his hand. "It's a long story."

It had been a few nights previous. The Merry Men had been in Nottingham, dropping off spoils where they could. Allen had been paired with Matthew, a circumstance that pleased him. Matthew was a rare breed, being one of the few men who was not only skilled but did not have an ego or bad temper to match. Allen often found that, the more talented an outlaw was, the more he was either harsh or egotistical. Matthew was always pleasant, had a smile for everyone but was also a fierce contender with a blade. Hence forth, they had run into minimal troubles as they traveled about the north section of Nottingham; which was their assigned area. But a misfortunate event with some guards had separated them and left Allen sprinting away.

He ran on until his throat burned and his steps feet from contact with the ground. And even then, he knew that he had to carry on. His sack of spoils weighed heavily as he cursed himself for not getting caught after he had lightened his load slightly.

But finally, there seemed to be silence. Too much silence in fact. With a feeling of dread, he looked back to note that he had in fact lost Matthew in his mad dash. He was quickly reassured in the fact that Matthew was far superior in speed to him so the fact that he had not been running miles in front informed Allen that his friend must have simply taken an ulterior route. All the same, he knew that he should finish dropping off spoils with reckless abandon to head instantly to the meeting point, praying that Matthew would think the same.

As he heaved his sack over his shoulder, Allen felt the small hairs on the back of his neck prick up, as he was overwhelmed with a feeling of being watched. He was fairly certain that it must be his usual paranoia. But then again, he prided himself of worrying and thanked it for keeping him alive. Better to be over worrisome than dead.

So he turned to inspect his surroundings. Allen found himself at the end of a dark alleyway. Darkened stores stood before him with similarly dark windows in the lofts above. Every inhabitant would be deep in slumber. Tattered curtains were drawn though they blew slightly in the strong breeze. Each brick was ageing, some decaying away. Others were covered in vines or mould.

He turned and saw a dark hooded figure. Allen leapt back, drawing his sword in panic but the figure made no move to defend himself. He simply stood, watching Allen.

All Allen could make about him was that he was tall. He assumed him to be male, considering what he could see of height and build. The darkness made things even more difficult but Allen could see that the man wore a long black cloak. The hood was pulled forward, hiding his face completely.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Allen said, trying his best to sound dangerous. He did well; there was only a slight quiver in his words. The figure remained stationary. "Who are you and what do you want?" Allen asked again, this time with more force.

Finally, the figure moved. He outstretched his arm and opened his hand to Allen. In his palm was a small dark bundle.

Allen hesitated, assuming that he was meant to take this. But fear held him back. What if it was a distraction? What if, as soon as Allen reached out, the figure pulled forth a dagger and sent it slamming into Allen's heart?

The silence stretched on as neither men moved. Finally, Allen slowly stretched out his own hand. The other hand held the sword tightly, to show his unspoken threat. Once his fingers closed around the bundle he leapt back, never taking his eyes off the figure. He felt the bundle in his hands. A fine material was wrapped something small and circular. Unwrapping it, he let the broach fall into his open palm. Gingerly, he stroked his thumb along the cool metal, wondering what on earth it could be.

He was about to look up again when he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. Whilst Allen had been distracted, the figure had quickly stepping forward and jerked his knee up. As Allen doubled over, the other mans fist made contact with the bottom of his chin. Allen's teeth jutted up, sending his head snapping back with a feeling of pain and the taste of blood. He was disorientated, stumbling back and waving his sword about.

When he looked up, the figure was gone.

Roger listened to this tale with a blank face, remaining quiet even after Allen finished speaking for a long pause. "Strange," he finally said. "Very strange. But why are you telling me this?"

Allen gulped, standing his ground. "Because I knew that I had seen this symbol somewhere before. I have thought of nothing else since it happened. And then finally, I realised. Do you remember that night you were caught in that fire?"

At the mention of the event, Roger's face darkened. Allen felt greatly unnerved at the change in the man. There was suddenly fury behind his eyes. "Well, you were burned so badly that you were quickly rushed to the nearest physician and we all stayed. And I saw your back. You had this symbol tattooed there."

"It must have been soot. I have never had a tattoo."

But Allen had no intention of letting the issue slide. "No but, see, I am rather sure that you did."

"Well that is interesting now isn't it," Roger said as he took great quick strides. "Isn't it strange that you have a greater knowledge of my own body than I do? Fascinating that"

Rather than be distracted, Allen simply asked the questions he really wanted to know. "How did you join this cause? You served the first Robin Hood, yes?"

Roger gave him a glare that cause Allen to quickly lower his voice. The other Merry Men knew little of the idea of previous Robin Hoods and the original members had long ago deemed it appropriate to keep things that way. "I did."

"You always said it was the second," he said suspiciously. _Good_ , he thought, _the man was already slipping_. "So you know so much more about our situation than the others. I know you met John at that bridge during the second Robin and Will tracked you down during the third. So I just want to know! Who was the first man? Why did he start this? Who was he?"

Roger stopped suddenly, looking Allen straight in the eye. "What is it that you are accusing me of Allen?"

Allen was startled at that. "Accusing? What would I have to accuse you of? Is there something I should be accusing you of?"

Both men silently looked at each other. "I don't trust you. There has always been something, off. I know each and every man in our gang. I know about their lives, their families. Each of them has a story, a reason for being here. Each has told this with pride. But you, you never say anything. You avoid us. You do enjoy helping those less fortunate, that is true, but not at the level of the others. Nor are you here for some deep set revenge. Nor are you here to prove yourself to anyone. So why? Why are you an outlaw? And why is there so much about our history that you will not tell us?"

Before Roger could answer, there was a crash. Followed by another. Followed by yelling and the clear sound of a struggle.

With a sense of dread, both men ran.


	5. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Robin thought of Allen's words for the entirety of his journey to Nottingham. He had gone through so many changes in his life that he was used to drastic life altering differences. He had been an orphan, before a squire. Then a servant before finally ending up in the strangest one of all, Lord. Fate had determined that his life was never boring. But same days, he wondered how differently things could have been. He gave up everything when he was outlawed. Initially, he liked to believe that he had had little choice. That this was what he was destined to be. But every now and then, he hated himself for questioning. What would have happened if he ignored the poor? Continued on his life of luxury.

He shook away such thoughts, walking faster. This was what he was meant to do. Thinking about things only made it seem worse.

Once in the town square, Robin drew his hood lower and waiting in the shadows. He knew that Wilfred would be around somehow. The square was oddly busy. What with the constant rise in taxes, people generally had little to trade.

Spying an old friend, he gave a curt nod. He could do little more when they were out in public. The woman tried her best to hide her wide grin at the sighting of him, busying herself with filling her basket with baked goods. She was quite tall and not what one would call a traditional beauty. She was a tad too plump with features that were a little too large. But something about her smile lit the square. This woman was Amelia Little, wife of Little John. She was often seen about camp, cooking and cleaning. John would not let her permanently join them. He wished for her to live a normal life of safety. But she was stubborn, and proved extremely difficult to keep away.

He looked on, looking for his old mentor. This man, in his eyes, was the living example of what knight should be. As a child, Robin had dreamt of the epic battles that Wilfred spoke of, imagining his hero, attempting daring feats, always risking his life for the greater. This is why it pained him to see Wilfred, being little more than a guard, standing across the square as he watched for disturbances.

Age is a fickle thing. Robin knew that people could accomplish the greatest things possible in their lives, only to be turned away when their usefulness ran out. Wilfred had once served the King, being a part of his personal guard as they fought wars together. But slowly, Wilfred began to age and slowly, he was pushed back further and further in ranks. When Robin was a child, Wilfred was a tutor, training young quires in the art of archery and swordplay. Now, he was considered too old to accomplish even that.

Sticking to the shadows, Robin snuck around the outskirts of the town square until he stood slightly behind Wilfred. "Keeping busy I see," he said quietly.

Wilfred barely flinched. "Oh, it's you." He scrunched his face in false disgust. "Don't you have something more important to do than disturbing an old man?"

Robin slipped a small money pouch from his pocket and dropped it to the ground. Wilfred looked down his nose at it and shook his head slightly. "I have no need for that. Give it to someone who needs it."

"A simple thank you would suffice," Robin said, stooping to recollect the spoils. "And you know that I like to help you."

"You should do. You owe me for everything."

Robin laughed but knew that it was true. It if weren't for Wilfred, Robin would have remained a penniless orphan. It was sheer luck that their paths intertwined, all those years ago.

"You know, it was exactly one year ago that I was outlawed," Robin said, hoping for the impossibility of praise. "Anything you would like to say? Any words of encouragement?"

Wilfred considered. Then he shrugged. "I suppose you weren't completely useless."

Robin felt pride, supposing that this was probably the nicest compliment he had ever received from the man.

"Now cut to the chase," Wilfred said. "You never come and see me unless you want something. Do you have another new outlaw that you want me to train? Because I shant do it. I have trained some imbeciles in my time but I nearly lost a limb with that Will."

"I think you mean Much."

"Is Will not the fat one?"

"He prefers the term 'rotund.' And that would Much."

"I thought Much was the young one."

"That is Benny."

"Then who is Luke?"

"One of the twins."

"Well you have too many men!" Wilfred eventually sighed in annoyance. "No one could possibly keep up."

Robin would have argued his case but another guard was walking dangerously close. He slunk back to be unseen and watched as this new guard walked past. This man made Robin shudder slightly as he looked to the hatred in his eyes. "Who was that?"

"Symond," Wilfred said quietly, ensuring that the man was far enough away before he spoke. "The new Captain of the Guard."

"Something tells me that he a real joy," Robin said sarcastically.

"Stay away from him, boy," Wilfred said. "I've heard stories."

Robin's eyes followed the guard as he crossed the square, approaching a pretty woman who Robin guessed to be a few years older than himself. Something about her seemed familiar. She had dark hair, braided down her back and she had sun kissed skin. She quaked as Symond approached her, clearly terrified. Robin watched on as he whispered something to her, something that made her shake even more. "Who is that?"

"Lilliana Scathelocke."

Robin tried to hide his shock. "Will has a sister? I thought his family died before his Father was killed."

"Apparently not," Wilfred said, trying to appear disinterested. But his concern informed Robin that there was reason to be nervous.

These suspicions were confirmed as Symond suddenly raised an armored glove to strike Lilliana hard across the face. She lost her footing and fell to the ground.

Robin began to stride forward, drawing his sword when Wilfred grabbed him by the arm. "Are you mad?" he breathed, jerking his head around. The square was lined with at least thirty guards.

Before Robin could break free, he heard another scream. Craning his neck, he saw more guards approaching, this lot dragging a terrified Amelia by her hair.

Wilfred fought to hold Robin in place, all the while hiding from his fellow guards. "You- can't- fight- them," he huffed, struggling for breath.

It would do little good. Robin knew that his greatest fear was people he cared for being hurt. The trouble was that he tended to care for everyone he met. There was a deep anger burning inside of him as he watched both women being dragged through the dirt.

He finally broke free of Wilfred but only managed one step before some unknown figure clasped caught him, holding him back in a death grip. The surprise of it all did not fare well for Robin as he found himself being dragged down an alleyway. This hooded man clasped a hand over Robin's mouth, forcing his silence. Robin still might have stood a chance if Wilfred did not join them and assist in restraining Robin.

Robin continued to fight them and was only silent when he heard a horrible familiar voice. For the Sheriff was addressing the crowds. "These women here have been sighted assisting outlaws. This makes them traitors to our sovereign Prince John. And so, their execution shall take place tomorrow morn."

With these words, Robin fought once more, trying desperately to save them. "Let me go!" he yelled, a little too loudly.

"Are you completely mad?" the stranger hissed. "There are almost thirty guards out there!"

Robin stopped struggling as he recognised the voice. The shock had finally gained his silence.

The man released him, content that Robin would wait in place. Then he finally pushed back his hood. He was a few years older than Robin, with light brown hair and beard, perfectly styled. Grey blue eyes looked to Robin with worry. His voice and mannerism spoke well of his upbringing.

Robin recognised him instantly. "Leon," he whispered. "What are you doing here?"

Leon's cold gaze was fixed upon him. "That is none of your concern," he said rudely. "I had no plan to make myself known to you. But I suppose we have to work together now. Amelia and Lilly are my friends too. And if you want to save them, I suggest that you listen to me."


	6. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Robin sighed as he looked deeply into yet another empty cell. Hours had passed by as every inch of the dudgeons was searched. And still, no sign. "There is no one down here," Robin whispered, as loudly as he dared.

Leon poked his head around a neighboring wall. "No one down their either. "

His tone spoke of deep frustration but also held residue of coldness toward the present company. "Look, I think it's obvious that they aren't down here."

"I won't stop searching!" In the heat of anger, Robin's words had grown a little too loud. Both men froze, not daring to move as they listened. There was continuous silence. It seemed they were safe.

"Do you mind?" Leon muttered, releasing the tight grip on his hilt. "Some of us aren't outlaws and would rather that we weren't caught."

They walked in silence for a time, both deep in thought. "So…" Robin said, attempting to sound normal, "how have you been?"

Leon simply glared, remaining completely silent.

"That good, huh?"

The silence practically burnt his ears and Robin found himself unable to keep his mouth shut.

"Enough of this. Leon, we clearly need a word."

Leon's eyes slitted. "Yes, shall we prioritise that? Because Amelia and Lilly can wait. After all, it is only their lives on the line. But let us go and discuss our _feelings_."

"You have no idea how sorry I am for everything that happened last year, how it haunts me every day."

"Great, I feel so much better now, shall we go?"

"What do you want me to say? How exactly can I apologise to you?"

Leon shook his head as he walked faster.

"What are you doing in Nottingham anyway?" Robin asked, "thought you hated it here."

"You didn't know? What great outlaws you are. Prince John is making a stop here tomorrow. Which is probably why the execution is set for then. The Sheriff is trying to prove himself. After all, he hasn't caught you lot for a year so he has to report some progress to save face. Anyway, I seek an audience with the Prince."

"Regarding?"

"Regarding something that is none of your concern."

Robin refused to leave it there, looking instead to Leon's hands. "You scratch your hands when you are nervous about something. You've done it since we were young."

"I'm worried about the execution," Leon said, hiding his hands behind his back."

"You have deep scratch marks. This goes back way further than this. I'm your friend, I notice."

"Some friend," Leon huffed. "Obviously not a good enough one."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that you took Allen! I always knew that you two were close and that was fine. But why not both of us? Why was only he good enough to join you on your great outlaw quest?"

 **"** It was never about that," Robin assured him. "You had your lands. So many people relied on you. I didn't want you to go through the same decision I went through to leave it all behind."

"And in doing so you doomed me."

Robin looked to him with deep concern. "Tell me what is going on and tell me now."

Leon sighed. "Things are worse than you know. You know of the taxes and how this new inflation is impossible for the poor to maintain. Well you fail to see how it affects the rich too. As you say, so many people rely of me. But with the constant rise of taxes, I am forced to put them through that struggle. I help when I can but now even I am unable to pay my own taxes. The Sheriff has inflicted strict rulings for all those unable to pay. And sadly, my lands fall under his domain. But I cannot carry out these punishments. I go to Nottingham to plead my case before I lose all of lands and estates to the Sheriff."

They continued to walk in silence for a moment, both men unable to think of what to say. "I know that you don't believe me but I really am sorry. I barely prioritised your lands because I thought they would be safe under your rule."

"No Lord has any power," Leon said. "The Sheriff owns us all."

"Don't you see? That is why I left. To stop all of the injustice."

"But at what cost?"

Before Robin could think of a response, Leon quickly cut him off. "And what exactly have you achieved? You have fed a few poor people? Was it worth it, Robert?"

"Robin Hood is an idea, Leon. It has grown and with that, hope. We started with nothing and we have achieved a great deal in a short space of time. It's a shame that you can't see that."

Leon shot out an arm, forcing Robin to halt. "Do you hear that?" he whispered.

Robin listened and there was a definite sound of footsteps. The dudgeon was a labyrinth of corridors. The echoing sound disguised the direction. "We need to split up, you can't be seen with me." Robin hated the words as he spoke them, much preferring to remain with his friend to know that he was safe from danger. But both men knew that they would have a better chance alone. Leon still appearance reluctant as he nodded, looking over his shoulder as he turned down the left corridor. Robin grimaced as he chose the left.

The sound of footsteps continued. On occasion they slowed or quietened. But suddenly they would appear again from another direction. Robin walked as rapidly and silently as he could and he succeeded in reaching the exit unscathed. There was no sign of Leon but he took the silence to mean that all was well.

He was still deep in Nottingham castle, in a stream of corridors but these they were well-lit with a definite rise in atmosphere. But he was still ill at ease.

The sound came again. But in the opposite direction. Robin turned to investigate, which made him blind to the man sneaking up behind him.

In the nick of time, Robin turned and dodged, just avoiding the sword being thrust forward. The surprise of it made him unsteady and he leapt back to avoid the second swipe. As he pulled his sword from his hilt, he recognised the Captain of the Guard. "Symond, I take it," he said, raising his sword in one swift motion.

The man spoke in a deep gravely voice. "I'm honoured. It seems that I need no introduction."

"I wish I could say that I've heard good things."

"Life is short. I see no point in playing by the rules."

Before Robin could respond, Symond lunged forward. Robin parried the blow, returning with a strong strike. Symond matched him in strength and each blow creating a deafening sound.

"So what are you doing down here?" Symond said, over their blows. "Surely you don't think the Sheriff is foolish enough to hide them so easily for you to find? He is serious about this execution."

"Well I hate to ruin his plans," Robin replied, ducking, "but I have no intention of letting that happen."

"It's a shame that we didn't meet a little earlier," Symond said, leaping left to avoid a blow. "I would have happily passed on a message to them for you."

"Where are they?"

"You know full well that I won't tell you. But I will tell you that they are safe, for now. Although, Lilly seemed a bit, well, upset."

Robin put all of his strength into a blow. Symond lost his balance slightly when he blocked it, giving Robin time to step back, raising his sword. "What did you do to her?"

Symond smiled a sick smile. "Exactly what she wanted me to."

Robin's blood ran cold and his fury rose until he could not contain it. Despite his exhaustion, his arm took new speed and power as he lunged forward. " _Don't you dare touch them!"_ Robin yelled, striking with fury.

Symond only chuckled darkly. "Don't worry. The old ugly one holds no interest for me. And there is no sense is sampling the same woman twice."

Robin forced his whole body toward the other, pushing both their blades back. The both fumbled back until Robin shoved him against a wall. Their close proximity made it all too easy for Symond to distract with his blade and use his opposing arm to strike Robin with his fist. The blow dizzied him enough for the other man to strike again. Robin fell back slightly, falling only after Symond raised a knee to his stomach. His sword tumbled away, creating an echoing clang that rung out into cutting silence.

Robin felt the cold metal of a sword, pressing into the side of his neck. A sharp pain was followed by the wet feeling of blood trickling.

"The Sheriff orders were always to bring you to him alive, but as I say, I see no point playing by the rules."

The sudden clanging on the sword returned as Symond dropped his blade. Robin saw the motion just in time as he rolled away and reclaiming his sword.

He froze in the act of his rushed rising as he saw Symond falling forward. He fell face down onto the stone floor, allowing a clear view of the arrow protruding from his back.

Robin peered back toward the darkness of the dudgeons. Finally, he saw a figure behind a pillar. "Leon?" he called.

The clanging sword sound returned what the figure stepped forward.

...

 _"_ _Allen is missing!"_

 _These words came with a crash of Robert's door. The sudden sound and panic the words ensured caused Robert to stumble out of bed in a flash of startled alarm. He squinted into the candlelight, noting how it just seemed to have surpassed dawn. He squinted, taking a moment to remember where he was. Finally, he recalled how he had travelled with his master and friend, Lord Allen to Nottingham. Lord Steffon himself had just charged into Robert's quarters, frantic with worry. He paced about, hand clenched in sandy hair._

 _Robert stood as calmly as he could, desperately awaiting an explanation. Steffon turned. "He wasn't in his room and I thought… I just… He must have run away."_

 _Robert sagged with relief, a smile cracking through his features. "Ever the bold and courageous," he said with a smirk._

 _Evidently he had forgotten his place. Steffon looked up in surprise, obviously not finding the scenario the least bit amusing. "I can see that you are far from understanding the direness of the situation. We are guests here in Nottingham. The Sheriff is doing us a great honor by considering my household for a marriage alliance with his ward. My position is at constant peril. If I want to remain in power, certain sacrifices must be made. Allen knew this! And yet he still runs."_

 _Robert looked to the ground, not wishing to upset his master again. "If I may, Milord," he said, daring to raise his gaze slightly, "It would seem that Allen is extremely hesitant to meet this girl. And you love your son. Surely you would put his needs before this mad power scheme."_

 _Steffon surprised him by sinking slowly onto Robert's bed. Robert stood with uncertainty. He had known this man almost his whole life but never had he seen such a state of informality. In fact, this was the first time they had been alone together. Steffon rubbed at his face, taking deep breaths. "Of course I want him to be happy," he said quietly. "And if the marriage is truly against what he wants, we could work something out. But as I told him, this is nothing more than a meeting. It need not evolve into anything. But the Sheriff will consider this to be a personal insult. He will see Allen's disappearance as us turning up our noses at his kind hospitality. He will- He might-" His voice trailed away with worry._

 _"_ _He won't do anything," Robert said with certainty. "I know Allen. Let me go look for him."_

 _The Lord just nodded as words evaded him. He left quickly, allowing Robert to dress quickly in his simple servants garb. He spoke with such confidence, but knew deep within that he had not the foggiest idea of where to even begin. Allen may have been his best friend, but this was an entirely new area. Neither of them had ever been to Nottingham before. The difference was that, while Robert was excited at the change of scenery, Allen had fretted the entire way. Robert wanted to kick himself for not thinking upon the idea that such fretting would have turned into action. He had never considered that Allen would run. For, as Lord Steffon had said, it was a simple meeting. Robert could not fathom why his friend was so nervous about everything. Allen had entered his second-and-twentieth year, an age his Father had apparently deemed the appropriate marriageable age. Robert himself was only twenty and had never considered himself drastically more mature than his friend until they had ridden together late during the night before to reach the town of his possible future bride._

 _He sighed as once more, he reflected how this was to be his lot in life. Deep down, he knew that he had little right to complain. He had once lived on the streets. The harsh reality then was death. Now his biggest problem was boredom and he still thought to complain. But he had been so close. Both he and Allen had been undergoing training to become squires. From there, Robert hoped to become a knight. It was the life he had dreamed desperately of. He worked his hardest in every one of Wilfred's lessons. He had even found a way to win over a young Leon, who had initially been a little brat. The three young boys had struck up an odd friendship._

 _It had all ended when Allen's brother died. Allen was now the sole heir to the lands of Barnsdale. And the deal had always relied on Allen. Lord Steffon sponsored both boys with the needed funding. Allen had not been skilled enough for Wilfred to select until the deal had been sweetened. As soon as Wilfred saw a young Robert handle a blade, even that of a toy, he knew that Robert was to be his protégé. All that was missing was the funds. And Lord Steffon had been all too happy to provide these, provided that his younger son was also taken care of._

 _But fate had a different way of life in mind. Allen was set to inherit everything. And Lord Steffon, despite being a kind man, would not fund a young orphan boy's training. Wilfred was re-assigned and Robert found himself as little more than a household servant. But at least he still had his friends. Allen had begged his Father to find Robert a position in their house and Leon found ways of visit Barnsdale when he could._

 _And that was how they grew. From young boys playing with wooden swords into men._

 _Robert was not sure of the exact moment in which he knew that he hated his life. But eventually he thought upon it every day. The same repeated trivial schedule was his own personal form of hell. He tried everything to find joy. Professionally, he soared. Thanks to his previous training, he quickly outranked guards more than twice his age at the tender age of fifteen. He managed to spend countless hours with two of the greatest friends a man could ask for. He even found a sweetheart. Johanna was a kitchen maid in the Barnsdale household that had been attempting to turn Robin's head years before he finally took notice._

 _Drawing his thoughts back to the task at hand, Robert eyed the outdoor grounds through the small window. Even from his high vantage point, he could see the crisp-looking white scattering of frost that lined the grounds and saw that his breath came out in a faint white cloud. He quick clasped his cloak before heading to the door. It had been a gift from Allen and was one of the only fine items that Robert owned. As soon as it was clasped around his neck, Robert began to feel warmth. The dark green folds billowed out as he hurried down the corridor, beginning his search. His walk was short-lived. The corridors seemed to stretch on, all looking the same. To find one man seemed impossible. And the sun was slowly rising higher in the sky. Knowing that time was proving short-lived, he pressed on._

 _He racked his brains, thinking of any possible route his friend would take. His concentration proved to be stronger than he expected as he barely noticed the youth kneeling on the floor, scrubbing away with a bucket and brush. It took immense skill to dodge the obstacles as Robert quickly leapt to the side. The boy flinched away, holding up his brush as protection. "Sorry Milord," he murmured, head bowed low._

 _"_ _I am no Lord," Robert said, with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "And I'm the one who should be sorry." The lad did seem to relax a little after that._

 _Upon closer inspection, Robert saw that the boy was older than he had previously thought. He must have been around fourteen years of age. He was small and worryingly thin. But he still greeted Robert with a warm smile that lit up his freckled face. "I figured that," he said sheepishly. "No Lord would ever apologise to the likes of me."_

 _Robert smiled, knowing that his words were true. Then he looked to the lad and his work. The floor practically sparkled, meaning he must have been there for a decent amount of time. And Robert was still walking along the one corridor that led away from the visitor's wing. "What is your name?"_

 _"_ _Benny."_

 _"_ _Well, Benny. You haven't by chance seen a man walk down this way have you? Tall. Light hair. Extremely nervous."_

 _Benny's eyes darted away a little too quickly. It was obvious that he knew something._

 _Robert knelt down and looked him in the eye. "It's alright. You can tell me."_

 _Benny looked unsure. "He seemed like he was in trouble. Asked me to show him a way out. And when someone is in trouble, you help them."_

 _"_ _Very wise words. But I can assure you, he will only be in trouble if I don't find him."_

 _Benny nodded slowly but still said nothing. Instead he swung one of his legs around, nudging at a small space in the wall. What had appeared to be nothing more than a stone wall, swung away slightly, showing a space just large enough to crawl through. Benny was practically glowing with pride. "Want to know your way around this castle? I'm your man."_

 _After thanking his quickly, Robert was crawling through the small passage. It was longer than he expected and damper. He was beginning to regret wearing the cloak. But finally, his head struck something. Pushing hard, he found it was a large plank of wood, hidden behind a large clump of tall grass. Freeing himself, he noted the genius of Benny before making sure he hid the plank exactly how he imagined it would have been left. Little did he know, Benny would prove to be even more useful in the future._

 _Looking around, he found he was outside. The fresh new sunlight was beaming down upon him, despite how it created little warmth. He figured that he was toward the back of the estate, for he was surrounded by trees and flower bushes, no doubt the large garden bragged about by the Sheriff. A large stone wall fenced him in, assuring him that Allen could not have gone far. The grounds stretched on and once again he was at a loss._

 _The sound of an arrow being released filled the air. Robert peered around, ready to defend himself but there was no one in sight. He listened keenly, hearing the sound again. It was a safe distance away. But, having no other leads, he decided to follow the sound, hoping that this mysterious someone could help him toward Allen._

 _He came across a long practice field. Archways lined the sides but otherwise it was completely out in the open. Robert remained hidden behind one of the arches to see what he faced._

 _It was there that he saw her. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was dressed plainly enough but she still seemed ethereal. Her long golden hair cascaded down her back, gleaming in the early morning sun. She slowly raised her bow, pale blue eyes narrowing, staring at the target at the end of the field. After a pause, she let the arrow free. It flew strongly, although Robert could tell that it would fly a little too far to the left. Sure enough, he saw it land stray of her target. She grimaced slightly, raising another arrow._

 _Robert took a small step forward. His foot crunch slightly on the leafy terrain and she turned instantly, pointing the arrow toward him instead._

 _He held up his hands, showing his good faith. "Sorry! I had no wish to startle you."_

 _He thought his tone to be rather friendly. But the arrow remained. "What do you want?"_

 _"_ _Nothing at all. I was just passing by." Neither moved. Eventually, he added. "You know, you issue is with your posture."_

 _"_ _Excuse me?"_

 _"_ _Your posture. Your arrow will never fly straight until you square your feet and hips."_

 _"_ _I don't need anyone's help," she said, rudely. "Especially not the likes of you."_

 _"_ _Just try it. I dare you."_

 _Robert could tell that she, like him, was not one to turn down a challenge. She followed his direction, still glaring. She let her arrow go quickly, not aiming as much as should ought to. Robert could tell that she expected it to fail. The arrow landed firmly on the outskirts of the bullseye._

 _If looks could kill, her gaze would have crippled him. "It was a lucky shot."_

 _He snorted. "Sure."_

 _She left the bow leant against a pillar. "Who are you anyway? Why don't I know you?" She stood before him once more, arms folded defensively._

 _"_ _Robert. I'm with the Barnsdale party."_

 _She laughed at that. "Well I wouldn't get too comfortable then if I were you. I've seen this happen countless times. My Lady does not take well to suitors. Do you know how many Lords parade through here, trying to win my mistress?"_

 _"_ _I'm guessing a fair few?"_

 _"_ _And you know what they all have in common? They all leave empty handed."_

 _"_ _Great! Because I can assure you that my Master has even less interest in your Mistress."_

 _She was visibly surprised. But before she had time to answer, the sound of a bell rang out, intended to inform servants to report to their duties. Robert realised how much time he had wasted. "I should go," he said quickly._

 _Luckily, she seemed just as rushed. "I should go too."_

 _"_ _Great," he said, running off. Turning back he called, "Wait! What is your name?"_

 _She hesitated. "Amelia."_

 _For the first time since their meeting, she smiled at him. And for a moment, Robert forgot entirely about why he had to leave. He simply watched her, unable to look away._

 _She too, remained a little longer than she should have. But eventually turned and ran off._

 _Robert waited until he could no longer see her._

 _He quickly raced to continue his search but had a horrible feeling that it things were about to get a lot worse._

 _Marian paused as she ran off, feeling the same way._


	7. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"Marian?" he said, trying to keep the stammer from his voice.

She said nothing as she cautiously crept forward into the light. Both sets of eyes bore into each other. The flickering candlelight illuminated the glistening tears that formed in her eyes.

Finally breaking his gaze, she looked to the body. "Is he dead?" she asked quietly.

Robin's eyes flickered down to the bow she held beneath the folds of her cloak. He knelt down once more, checking Symond's wrist for a pulse. Just as he suspected, there was none. "He's alive," he lied. "Must've struck his head when he fell but he'll live."

She let out the breath she had been holding, adopting a cold look.

He took a few steps forward but she stepped back, holding up her hands. "Stay away from me," she warned.

"Marian-"

"Just, don't."

In the flickering light of the candlesticks, he studied her. It had been a long year since he had seen her, but he thought of her every day. He knew now that his memories could do her beauty little justice. Or perhaps she had grown even more beautiful in their year apart. She seemed different, older than her eighteen years. But in the same way, so many things were the same. She wore a simple ivory gown, secured by a brown belt at her waist, all covered by a deep green cloak. He recognised the cloak most of all; it had once been his.

Robin was deeply absorbed in his shock, so much so that he did not notice Leon emerge from the same corridor that he had once tread. He could see how tensions were running high but was still very aware of the impending danger. "We should go," he said to Marian, "we can't be seen with him."

Robin was about to interject when the sound of further running interrupted them. Robin pulled his sword free once more, stepping instinctively in front of Marian.

Allen and Much ran down the corridor towards them. "Robin!" Allen called, obviously surprised to see him. He stopped short completely when he saw the other two. "Wh- what's going on?" he stammered. Much looked to the strangers in confusion but said nothing.

"What are you doing here?" Robin asked.

"Friar Tuck warned up about the execution," Allen explained, speaking at a rapid pace. "You should have seen John and Will. It wasn't pretty. We didn't know where you were so we came to search the dudgeons. If you haven't seen the others then we must be the first here. Everyone split up and came from different directions. All caught up? Great. Now would you care to explain why Marian and Leon are here?"

For the first time that day, she smiled, running forward to embrace him. He hugged her back but seemed very baffled. "Who would have thought," Allen said wistfully. "The old gang. All four of back together."

"A lot has changed," Leon said coldly.

Allen looked up sharply at the harshness of the tone. "He has abandonment issues," Robin muttered.

"With good reason!" Leon said indignantly.

"Oi!" Much yelled, sounding suddenly mature for the first time in his life. "I have no idea what is going on but now is not the time! Or have you forgotten that guards were just chasing us and they could be here any second?" For the first time, Robin was rather impressed by his friend.

"I like that one," Leon said with a chuckle. "The loud one is right, we should move."

"A large group was gaining on us by the main stairway but we lost them," Allen added. "But it wouldn't take a genius to know our direction. They could be here any second."

"You two can't be seen with us," Robin said quickly.

Leon looked reluctant. "What about Amelia and Lilly? They are our top priority right now."

"You are no use to them if you share their fate."

Before either of them had time to argue, the sound of approaching footsteps answered for them. They could easily hear the chinking metal of amour.

"Go!" Robin said again, with far more urgency.

Leon pulled at Marian's arm, tugging her away. "Be careful," she said, allowing herself to be steered away.

"I knew you cared!"

Robin was spared her look of hatred as Leon forced her to run. What he was not spared from was the obvious observation that she limped. Clearly she had not made it away from the accident unscathed.

They were gone in the nick of time. The remaining three barely had time to draw their swords before guards were upon them. Some ran down from a staircase leading down from a high balcony, some from down the long corridor. Robin, Allen and Much held their swords defensively but they had no hope. They were outnumbered. Completely.

"Well, well, well. What have we here?"

The voice created a chill in everyone as they froze.

Robin turned slowly, looking up to a balcony. There, stood the Sheriff.

"I wondered when you would make an appearance Hood."

"Evening Sheriff," Robin said casually. "Now why are you going to all of this trouble to get my attention? Kidnapping innocent women? If you wanted to see me, you could have just asked."

"But this was so much more fun."

"Well, regardless, you've got me here. Now what do you want?"

"To kill you, to kill your men and to kill any memory that you ever existed."

Robin faked flattery. "You would do all of that for me?"

"I wish I could. But apparently you are invincible."

"Stop, I'm blushing," Robin added, flatly.

"I meant that as the opposite of flattery. I could kill you easily. Right now. Any of my men could shoot an arrow to your heart and I would finally be rid of you."

"So do it," Robin replied, calmly.

"Robin!" Allen hissed, "Shall we not?" Much let out a scared squeak of agreement.

The Sheriff grimaced. "Here is my problem though. Kill you, and we have a martyr. The people would rise up. And that is exactly the opposite of what Prince John wants. So until I can find a way to kill you without an uprising, I suppose I will have to settle for killing those closest to you."

Robin shook his head. "I will never let that happen."

The Sheriff ignored him. "Soon it will all come out. You are nothing more than a miserable coward who hides behind a hood."

He looked to his men. "Spare him but kill the other two." Bows were drawn, the sound of taunt strings echoed dozens of times. The sound was mulled by a new voice.

"I would reconsider that if I were you, Sheriff." Before anyone could react, Leon was behind the Sheriff, with a dagger to his throat. "Your move," he muttered. The Sheriff had positioned himself separate from his men, enough that they could not reach him. Bows were pointed but the dagger would be faster.

The Sheriff only laughed. "Lord Leon, what a pleasant surprise. But my point still stands Hood."

"Looks to me that you are the one with a dagger to his throat," Robin said.

"Yes, but we both know that he can't use it. In the same way that I cannot kill you Hood, you cannot kill me. Think of the repercussions."

Robin and Leon looked to each other. They spoke no words but there was a clear message. Both knew, that neither could kill the Sheriff. He spoke the truth. Leon trembled slightly. He could never kill anyone, even the scum he faced now. It made him shake even more to wonder if this made him a coward or it made him a good person. Robin slowly shook his head and Leon gradually stepped backward, dagger still pointed.

"So noble," The Sheriff said with a smirk. "If only I had the same morals."

And with a simple click of his fingers, two of his guards marched forward from the doorway to the balcony, dragging a body between them. They reached the wooden barrier to heave and throw the person down to Robin's feet.

Robin felt completely numb as he knelt down.

Wilfred was dead, throat gashed open. His eyes looked on, frozen in fear and agony. Blood still oozed from the gaping wound as Robin stared down upon his friend.

And then there was fury. Robin suddenly found himself atop the staircase, fingers around the Sheriff's throat. Guards were upon him, weapons crashing everyone. He had no inkling if these weapons were from enemies or his men or even from himself. He saw only one man. And he saw as he pushed the Sheriff down to crash on the stone floor beside Wilfred's corpse.

Despite the crashing of swords around him, Robin stood still, peering down at the body.

The Sheriff's left hand twitched, ever so slightly.

Allen, Much and Leon fought as best they could, but they still faced defeat. Sheer numbers overruled talent and they trembled as they stood to their inevitable deaths.

But a war cry sounded out. And from every entrance, Merry Men came running. Weapons were raised and blood was ready to be poured.

Robin saw only Will, who stood over the Sheriff. Will looked to the dying man as well as noting the sorry state of Wilfred. Finally, he looked to Robin, asking permission.

Robin nodded.

Will neglected his own sword, kneeling down slowly. The Sheriff slowly regained conciseness, wincing in pain but showing no ounce of fear. Elation covered Will's face as he clasped the Sheriff's own dagger. "You used this blade to kill my Father. He was a remarkable man, but not to you. In your eyes, he was nothing. I'll wager that you have no recollection of him. Well let me remind you. Joseph Scathelocke was a good man. His wife and four of his children died from hunger due to your taxes. My Father stole to protect the final few of us. And you killed him for it. Made him an example. Whipped him publicly until he was begging for the agony to stop. That was not the man he was. You made him appear as a coward, begging for death. Then you gave me this." Will ran a hand down his face, tracing the scar that crossed the side of his face. "You gave me this so I could never forget. Every time I saw my own reflection, I thought of you. And this was your mistake. Every time I thought of you, I hated you more. And every time, I thought of killing you. And now, I shall."

The other Merry Men had barely noticed. They were still deep in battle with the guards. But Allen watched his friend. Robin stood still, looking straight back.

Will raised the dagger. This time, it was raised above his enemy's heart. But a hand reached out and clasped his wrist.

"We're done," Robin whispered, his voice dry. The hatred in his eyes was still there, but it was masked by a deeper void of shame. He had wanted Will to continue. He had wanted the Sheriff to wail in pain as his blood seeped away. And this terrified him more than the need for revenge.

" _I'll be done when he is dead_ ," Will yelled, shoving Robin away roughly. Robin charged back, thrusting Will back with great force. They fought, forgetting weapons and forgetting all else around them.

Allen surprised them both by clutching Will by the shoulders and slamming him into the wall. " _He has wronged more than just you_!" He yelled. "He killed my Father too. And Wilfred. But everything else he does, he does in Prince John's name. Kill him, and all of Nottingham will suffer even more. Prince John will make sure of that, have no doubt. So we won't kill him. Not today. Because he has just learnt a valuable lesson. We won't kill him but we have our limits. We care about people. And if he uses any innocent life to ensnare us again, we will make him wish for death."

The sounds of battle around them slowly drowned away. Most of the Sheriff's men had fled or been defeated.

"Come on," Robin said into the silence. "We are going now."

John ran after him, desperately. "But what of the execution? What of Amelia? Prince John will still hang them tomorrow."

Robin seemed strangely calm. "Well I have one final lesson to teach them."


	8. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

The execution was to take place early after the sunrise. The crowds gathered with an overall somber feel. No one found enjoyment in the execution of innocent people. Amelia and Lilly were well known and liked in the community. And Prince John had very few loyal admirers to say the least.

No one came to see the women die. They came in the hopes of a miracle.

Prince John stood at his place of honour, atop a high balcony. The Sheriff had promised him that Robin Hood would make an appearance. And he had guards hidden in every possible space in the courtyard. For it was fair to say that Robin Hood was creating an abundance of problems for the Prince. Even the utterance of the name caused hope when he had long since worked to expunge.

To Prince John, it was a flawless plan. Naturally, he knew that the Merry Men would be hiding out in the crowds. But he felt secure in the abundance of guards he had around the gallows, spattered through the crowd, up in niches of the castle with arrows and everywhere around the edges of the square.

Yes, to Prince John it was the perfect plan. But to Robin, it was simply a slightly inconvenient challenge.

Marian stood on a much smaller balcony, located on a difference side of the building that surrounded the square. From there, she could see her uncle, Prince John in his apparent glory. Even from a distance, he was an intimidating man. There was no denying that he had been blessed with handsome features. But his apparent cruelty overruled any positive visuals.

Breaking her gaze, she peered down instead, past the crowds to the gallows. She breathed deeply, closing her eyes and praying.

"Care for some company?"

She turned quickly, angered. "You're late," she muttered as Robin stood beside her. It aggravated her to no end that he did not show one sign of fear when she herself was overcome by it. If one thing went wrong, her friends would die. Little did she know that he did share these feelings, he had simply become a master at suppressing them.

"Everything is going according to plan," he reassured her.

"I see that Leon is an outlaw now," she said haughtily.

Robin allowed a small amount of regret to pass his face. "I had no intention for that to happen. "But be assured, I will keep him safe."

She relaxed her gaze slightly. "And you can be assured that he has secretly wished to join you for an age. Deep down, he always wanted this."

Robin fidgeted, uncomfortable in his stolen guards uniform. But it had accomplished the intended purpose. He had made it through the castle, unseen to be at his position. "You should go," he said. "this area is about to become a tad unsafe."

She laughed coldly. "Trying to keep me away from danger are you?"

He looked to her, unable to contain his regret any longer. "Believe it or not, that was exactly what I was trying to do. I couldn't tell you about the Merry Men because I wanted you away from danger. And it kills me that that is why you almost died."

It had been a year, but he still thought of it daily. How he had initially snuck around with Allen, Roger, Will and Little John. Something deep within him knew instantly that he was doing what he was meant to be doing. He knew that he was meant for a life of becoming an outlaw. But he had still been unwilling to complete immerse himself into that life. And the reason for this had been her. His betrothed.

But no secret of such longitude could be kept hidden. Sneaking around under Prince John's nose would not succeed for long. So he had been found out. And he tried to flee.

But Marian had followed him. She stopped him, betrayed and heart-broken.

A guard had sent an arrow flying. An arrow intended for Robin. But it had not flown true. Marian was the one shot. The force of it sent her falling backwards. Down the grand staircase.

Robin had tried to run after her. Seeing her lying far down on the distant floor, surrounded by a pool of blood had driven him into a crazed rage. But Roger and the other men pulled him away. He had not had the strength to fight all of them. And then she was gone, whisked away to France to recover.

And now she was back.

"Let's just get through this," she said, looking out the crowds. "Then we'll talk."

"Well there's an incentive if I ever heard one."

She glared. "You shouldn't need one."

He began to respond but noted what she was holding, a bundle of dark clothing. Eyes slitted, he simply told her, "no."

She stood defiant. "Why won't you let me help?"

"Why do you think?"

"Come on! You know I am well trained with a blade. You were the one who trained me!"

"And one day, you can help. But not today."

"Because you don't think that I can? You think I'm not good enough."

He just smirked. "Oh contrare. We just have no need. This is going to be far too easy."

She walked away, trying her best to hide the limp. Turning back suddenly, she said, "I'm sorry. About Wilfred. I know what he meant to you."

Robin worked hard to keep his face still. "Like you said Marian; let's just get through this."

...

Prince John looked out onto the crowds. He noted the looks he received. Those of hate and fear. They did not bother him in the slightest. In fact, he relished in them.

"People of Nottingham. Today you shall witness the consequences of opposing me. Robin Hood is a menace. And some still think to show him loyalty. Well… I hope you all learn from this."

The Sheriff stood to the Prince's right. He stepped forward to give the order, "Bring out the prisoners!"

Robin remained staunch as he watch guards dragging Amelia and Lilly forth. He forced himself to watch, even though he wanted nothing more than to tear his eyes away. He felt such guilt. Both women were clearly terrified. Amelia seemed to desperately search the crowd for her husband. All she wanted was a single glance. To look into his eyes one final time. But he was nowhere to be seen. So instead she gave into her sobs. Lilly however, did not shed a single tear. Her body appeared to have given out as she was completely dragged forth. Robin thought it to be her final protest, the only way she could think to spite them. If she were to die, she would at least put them through extra effort first. Finally, she was thrown on the podium. Her long black hair fell in front of her face and she did not bother to brush it back. Instead, she continued to act limp so once again she had to be picked up. They ran into problems with making her stand over the trapdoor as she chose instead to crumple. Finally an angered guard approached her. He forcibly dragged her up. His nails cut into her tanned skin as his hands clenched tightly upon her. Putting his face close to her, he muttered, "listen up you little bitch. You have two choices here. Stand and take your easy death. Or, I can continue to cut off body parts until you are a little more helpful. So which will it be?"

"It's alright Lilly," Amelia said, holding back a sob. "It is time."

Lilly broke her hated gaze to look lovingly at her friend. Finally, her feet pushed against the ground as she stood on her own.

Prince John once more addressed the crowd. "These two woman have sympathized with outlaws! Helped with the schemes! Betrayed their King! And today, they pay."

Robin clutched his bow tightly, watching as the executioner raised nooses over each woman's head.

Finally, it was time. Prince John held up his arm, enjoying the anticipation of the wait. The crowd held their breath. A single tear ran down Amelia's cheek.

And then the arm dropped.

The lever was pulled and the trap doors opened.

No sooner had the arm fallen than Robin raised his bow.

All he could see was the suddenly taunt rope that hung. There was no sound elsewhere. All he could hear was his own breathing. Closing one eye, he looked on into the silence.

Releasing his breath, he let go. The arrow flew straight and sure to cut through the rope of Amelia's noose. She fell with a yelp through the trapdoor. She expected the hard unforgiving stones. Instead, someone caught her. "John!" she exclaimed wrapping her arms around him.

He wanted nothing more than to hold her but there was work to be done.

The second arrow shot down and Lilly too fell through the trap door. John caught her too before she even realised what was going on. She was still bumbling in confusion as John forced a cloak around her, fumbling with the bindings. Amelia already bore a dark brown cloak although she was a at a complete puzzlement regarding to why this was.

Will fought his way to the front of the crowd. Satisfied, he stood tall and called, "for Robin Hood!"

Almost every Saxon in the crowd looked to each other knowingly. And then, unanimously, they raised the hoods upon their cloaks.

Allen laughed at the sight as he leapt atop the gallows, bow at the ready. Archers lined the niches above Prince John's balcony and all of them had arrows nocked. Benny leapt beside him, bow in his hand.

"Now!" Will yelled.

John kicked at the loose wood of the gallows with a mighty crack, creating a large gap. "Go with Matthew," he told them urgently, pulling up their hoods as he spoke.

And everyone did as they promised.

They all ran.

Prince John silently cursed as a mass army of hooded heads all bolted away. It was complete chaos. He searched desperately but in the fray, he instantly lost anyone of importance. There was no telling who was who. The guards had no way of knowing whom to attack. And besides, they did not have the means. For if they tried, they would have been trampled by the madness.

John smiled in the knowledge that his wife was finally safe. There was no way they could find in the running crowd. And the guards focused their attention elsewhere regardless. For Robin was still trapped up on the balcony. "Time to return the favour," John said as he furiously swung his quarterstaff as the nearest guards. Three of them went flying backward from this single swing. And he was only warming up.

Benny and Allen worked as quickly as they could. It was difficult, moving to evade arrows whilst continuously shooting out their own. There was a long line of archers attacking from above and they needed to keep them away from Robin's escape route. Luckily, they only needed to look to the central archers. Those on the edges mysteriously stopped shooting after they disappeared. Later, they would speak in terrified whispers of a man in black who fought like a demon. Marian was notably absent.

The Sheriff had done well with his numbers as guards had been clustered throughout the square. Hence, the remaining Merry Men awaited them with swords. John, Will, Much, Luke, Roger and Thomas held off as many guards as they could, fighting with reckless abandon. It was never their tactic, they were only meant to distract them temporarily until the others could join in with the crowd.

Meanwhile, Robin had nocked one final arrow, one that had a thick rope tied tightly to it. This always made it harder to shoot but naturally, it flew the straightest of the lot as it landed with a thud onto on of the planks of the gallows. John struck one final guard with his own shield as he saw it. Triumphantly, John pulled back the arrow, wrapping the rope around the plank a few times and holding it tight. "Now!" he bellowed.

Robin looked skyward as he prayed that it would work. He pulled on a pair of gloves, tightly gripped the rope and leapt.

And of course, with a flourish, Robin leapt down beside Allen. "I know what you're thinking and yes, I am a legend," he said, grandly.

"Let's just go," Allen said, rolling my eyes.

Robin pouted slightly. "You know I hate to run from a fight," he said, looking wistfully out to the masses of guards.

"Right then," Luke huffed through his panting. "You can stay and fight around fifty of the Sheriff's best men and we will go for pint. Sound good?"

Robin rolled his eyes and turned to Prince John. They looked to each other, Robin with victory and Prince John with hatred. "Until next time!" Robin called, sinking into a low mocking bow.

Turning, he called to us, "Let's go men!"


	9. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

A few days later, Allen was woken by a strange sound. He squinted into the darkness, waiting for some form of movement. But everything was still in his small cabin. If he listened hard enough, he could hear the small sound of Robin and Leon's slow breathing. For a moment, he remained still, wondering if he had dreamed the whole thing. But he could not stop the feeling.

As silently as he could, Allen eased himself off of his mat, hoping to not awaken the others. Slowly, he made his way out into the cold air. Camp consisted of five small cabins that were far too small to house the men that were crammed inside them. But they clearly had no time for building when the majority of their days and nights were spent in typical outlaw fashion. Allen noted no movement from any of them. But something was still amiss. Remaining perfectly still, he listened.

Finally, he heard something. A muffled sound. The sound of someone in pain, trying to stifle it. It was coming from the back of camp, concealed by a thick bunch of trees. Allen snuck forward, hiding behind the large trunks.

He saw Roger, knelt beside the small lake. His face was contorted in pain. A small piece of tree bark was clenched between his teeth in an attempt to remain silent. His shirt had been discarded, allowing Allen to see the deep burns that still scarred along his skin.

It took Allen a moment to realise exactly what was going on. Remembering recent events, Allen quickly searched for the tattoo. The problem was that Roger was covering it with a small staff. The staff seemed to be glowing. With horror, Allen realised that it was a staff from the embers of their campfire. Allen stifled his cry of anger as he finally understood. His cries were stifled by Roger as he groaned whilst burning away at his own skin.

The angle was unfortunate. Roger struggled to reach his own back. Hence it took a few tries as he continuously struggled, burning whatever he could reach. The smell of burning flesh filled the clearing. Allen felt pain himself before realising he had been pressing his hands into fists so hard that he had drawn blood. That was it! He now had no proof. Allen kicked himself for not going to Robin sooner.

No one would believe him. For he was the only who knew the truth. There was so much more to Roger Darnell than any of them could have ever guessed. He was dangerous.

"I will stop you," Allen whispered.

...

 _A week had passed, and still Robert failed to answer to the name Lord Allen. An entire week of impersonating his best friend had been far more difficult than anticipated. In front of others, both Robert and Marian were the prime example of the well-behaved young people that they ought to be. The façade was easy to maintain and Robert found himself rather enjoying the spectacle. Steffon was the opposite, he panicked and fretted constantly. Lord Carew, the current Sheriff of Nottingham was the picture of optimistic hope. Marian had been placed in his care a year previous. Initially, he thought it would be perfectly easy to find her a suitor. She was a beautiful woman with an impressive dowry. A niece to the King himself. But as Robert quickly gathered, her attitude made people desire to choke her. Or maybe that was just him._

 _"_ _Lord Allen!"_

 _Robert once again forgot to respond to his new name and Lord Carew was forced to yell at him a few times from across the courtyard. When Robert finally turned, he saw two horses and one very begrudged Marian._

 _"_ _I thought a morning ride would help you two become acquainted," Lord Carew said merrily, handing him reigns._

 _Robert happily took them. He had always enjoyed riding. Marian sneered when his back was turned._

 _"_ _Now let me just find you an escort." The Lord peered around._

 _"_ _Surely there is no need, My Lord," Marian said quickly. "We won't stray far."_

 _Robert smiled and the Sheriff relented. "Behave!" he warned, waggling a finger at the two of them before turning back to the castle. Marian was not successful in hiding her snort._

 _"_ _So where are we headed?" Robert asked._

 _She steered her horse into a trot. "Sherwood Forest."_

 _Robert hurried his horse to keep up. "So we aren't going to part ways after the gate?"_

 _"_ _Carew has spies everywhere. And besides, I enjoy a good ride. And you may extremely irritating but astoundingly, you are preferable to an escort. So you may accompany me if you wish."_

 _"_ _I would be honoured," Robert said sarcastically._

 _They rode in silence momentarily, but Robert could not contain his smirk. "What?" she asked._

 _"_ _Nothing. It's just, you remind so of my friend Lord Leon. Or at least, you remind me of whom he used to be. The two of you would be well suited."_

 _"_ _So I suppose that I can expect a marriage proposal from his house soon?"_

 _They rode briskly, quickly approaching Nottingham gates. "And so what if you do? Why are you so opposed to marriage?"_

 _She considered for a moment. "I hate the idea of being controlled."_

 _"_ _So what do you plan to do? Do you really expect to be a maid forever?" Well, I suppose you could. I think you would look rather nice in a nun's habit."_

 _Something he found about Marian was that her gaze of hatred lost its strong impact after the first few hundred times it was given. "I have no need to explain my future to the likes of you."_

 _They approached Sherwood. Robert had no knowledge that he was entering his future home. It was little more than a forest. A vastness of trees and greenery. But he did feel strangely at peace the moment he entered. He had always enjoyed nature. The sound of birds singing and the wind gently flowing relaxed him. They rode down the main trail in silence for a time. She had no wish to speak to him and Robert found himself lost in the ambience of the wood. But eventually boredom overtook her. "So I know why I have no wish to marry, but what is your excuse?"_

 _"_ _Do you really find yourself 'that' desirable? Is the idea of someone having little interest in you so strange?"_

 _Her silence answered for her. He scoffed. "Well, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but not all men are simply looking for a pretty little trophy. You best learn that now, while you have time to change?" He smirked, pushing back a stray lock of hair from his forehead._

 _"_ _Are you really implying that I need to change?"_

 _"_ _Well, think of it this way. Right now, as you say, you have no shortage of suitors. You are young, beautiful, and have a strong family background. But if all things go according to your plan, you shant marry. Not for a while anyway. And then your looks will begin to fade and you will be left with your considerably giant ego. New maidens will reach a marriageable age and men will flock to them. You will still receive the occasional suitor, but he will only be introduced in your political position. And these men will no be as dashing as me. Far from it! You will wed a man twice your age, who probably drinks all that he earns while you raise a breed of his horrible children. At night, you will like in misery, stopping your fits of wailing to ponder back to that bewitching handsome and charming Lord Allen, of whom you were blatantly rude and nasty to. And you will know that he went on to marry a beautiful and humble woman, both of who are blissfully happy."_

 _"_ _And you say that I am the one with a 'considerably giant' ego?"_

 _"_ _We all have our flaws. But at least you can own up to yours."_

 _"_ _Has anyone ever told you that are well and truly mad?"_

 _Robert suddenly pulled upon his reigns, not answering._

 _"_ _Seriously?" she said, "you take offence to that?" Meanwhile you claim that I am going to-"_

 _He held up a hand, silencing her. She was about to furiously put him in his place but then she heard it too. Footsteps. Running footsteps._

 _"_ _Go!" Robert said hurriedly, turning his horse around._

 _The sound of a taught bow stopped him. "Leaving so soon?"_

 _Robert looked up to see a man sitting atop a tree branch. Another stepped out from behind the same tree. Marian was looking to her left, watching three appear from her direction as well._

 _"_ _Evening gentlemen," Robert said, watching the drawn arrows. "Anything we can help you with?"_

 _One of them men jerked his head back to throw back a lock of shaggy brown hair. He was very pale, making the dirt all over his body very visible. The smell hit Robert instantly. "Just wanted to stop and say hello. Hello!"_

 _"_ _Brilliant. Now that you've said it, we best be on our way."_

 _"_ _So soon? We've barely gotten to know each other. You nobility are so rude. It's very nice to meet you, my name is Thomas."_

 _"_ _Allen. Now I hate to dash but we really must be on our way."_

 _"_ _Now, now, that aint very becoming of you, now is it?"_

 _Robert had never been one for games. "What exactly is it that you want?" he asked, darkly._

 _"_ _Blunt man. I like it." Thomas was close now. Close enough for Robert to smell the strong alcohol on his breath. "Why don't you just hand over all yer valuables, and we can all go on our merry way."_

 _"_ _And if we don't?" Robert asked. Marian glanced at him in panic._

 _Thomas snickered. "Well then we'll have to kill ya, now won't we?"_

 _"_ _Hardly seems fair."_

 _"_ _Life aint fair! Get over it."_

 _"_ _Well it's not. Five men again two. But how about this? You and me. Hand to hand combat. You win, you take all that we have. I win, we go free."_

 _Thomas scrounged up his nose, confused. "Why would I agree to that? I've already won."_

 _"_ _To prove you're not afraid."_

 _These simple words alit a fire. "I aint afraid!"_

 _One of the other outlaws groaned. "He's playing you idiot! Let's take the gold and go."_

 _Robert dismounted, still calm. "Trouble is, we have none."_

 _"_ _He lies!" another outlaw hissed._

 _"_ _Search me," Robert said, holding out his arms. "I assure you, I have nothing."_

 _The man in the tree leapt down, but he did not look at Robert. "I'll search her," he muttered._

 _Robert dismounted quickly to stand in front of him. "Not going to happen." Then he once more looked to Thomas. "Deep down, you can tell that I am not lying. You will gain no spoils from us. So I dare you. Fight me. Leave with your dignity."_

 _"_ _We'll take the horses," another outlaw said._

 _Robert spoke only to Thomas. "You know that you wish to fight. So let the horses be the prize."_

 _Thomas took one final swing from his flask. "It's been nice knowing you, Pretty Boy," he said, drawing his sword._

 _"_ _Hang on!" Robert said definitely. "I don't have a sword."_

 _"_ _That's your problem," Thomas shrugged. "A sword was never part of our agreement."_

 _"_ _Allen!" Marian said, with the clear sound of metal. He looked to her in time to see the sword she offered toward him._

 _"_ _Where were you hiding that?" he said in confusion. But Thomas attacked before she had a chance to reply._

 _Robert had not indulged in a decent fight for what seemed like an age. He had left his training six years ago when he was around fourteen years of age. Sadly, he barely saw Wilfred since. Allen was always busy in his new boring political position. Leon liked to train with him on the off time he was able to visit Barnsdale but Robert still found himself missing the art. Thomas was far from what he would have wanted in a partner. But he was better than he expected, despite the obvious alcohol factor. Thomas clearly favoured attacking, striking his sword back and forth, thinking to drive Robert back. Robert held off defending himself strongly, simply dodging about, block gently. He wanted to see what the other man would do. As he suspected, Thomas had not expected his opponent to possess much skill. If he had, he never would have agreed to fight. When he finally paused to realise the mistake he had made, Robert lunged forward. Thomas almost dropped his sword with the shock. Most swordsmen favour either attack or defensive because they lack talent in the other. This was true for Thomas as he struggled to defend each strong blow that Robert dealt him. He simply stumbled about, tripping on countless tree roots and pieces of fallen twigs and leaves._

 _Finally, Thomas found himself with his back pressed to a tree. Robert brought his sword forward causing Thomas to push his whole weight into blocking it. With one quick flick to the right, Robert knocked the other mans sword away to the forest floor. Triumphantly, he pressed his blade to Thomas' neck._

 _"_ _Alright, alright!' Thomas said nervously. "Guess we best be on our way."_

 _"_ _Call off your men," Robert said._

 _"_ _Thing is though, the tallest of the outlaws said, "they aren't 'is men at all. They're mine."_

 _Robert twisted Thomas' arm, forcing him in front, sword still poised. "Well then, call off 'your' men or this man dies."_

 _The outlaw snarled. "You think I care?' Kill 'im. Or better yet-" Taking a few steps forward, he pulled at Marian's arm, sending her tumbling down from her horse. His own sword was then in front of her neck. "Kill 'im and I kill 'er."_

 _Robert's fists curled tightly with his fury. "Let. Her. Go."_

 _The man laughed, his rotting teeth on show._

 _Another member of the outlaws looked on in fury. "Since when are we your men?" he said, addressing his 'leader.'_

 _"_ _Since I said."_

 _"_ _Well, I say I'm in charge."_

 _"_ _That's not how it works!"_

 _"_ _I still think I'm in charge!" Thomas said but no on paid him the slightest heed of attention._

 _The man holding Marian was clearly furious at the others defiance. "You can do as I say or I will make you pay!"_

 _"_ _Oh yeah?" The man strode forward, pushing Marian out of the way as he pushed his sword deep into the other's chest. He pulled it back, only to stab him again, even more ferociously._

 _Robert ran forward, pulling Marian back with him. She was trembling in shock, wiping blood that had spattered over to her face._

 _Looking to the horses, Robert knew that he stood no chance in regaining them. One of the outlaws held the reigns. And he looked rather excited at the sight of all the blood._

 _"_ _I suggest you get out of here," Thomas muttered under his breath._

 _Robert clutched at Marian's hand, pulling her after him. He gave Thomas an appreciative glance, not knowing that he had once more, stumbled upon another of his future men. He heard shouts after them and pounding footsteps. But they ran fast and eventually there was silence._

 _They ran until Robert feared that he would collapse. And he prided himself on his stamina. So he assumed that Marian would be far worse off. He slowed, looking behind him at the empty trail and feeling safe to come to a complete stop._

 _Marian stood away from him, not able to tear her eyes away as she watched desperately for any sign of being followed._

 _"_ _Are you alright?" Robert asked._

 _She nodded, not looking at him. "I just need a minute," she said, unable to hide the tremble in her voice._

 _He slowly approached her, putting his arms around her. Her fear was released as she sobbed into his shoulder. Gently, he wiped the blood from her face as she shuddered._

 _"_ _Sorry," she said quietly, wiping her eyes. "I'm being ridiculous."_

 _"_ _No, you're not."_

 _"_ _I've just never seen anyone die before."_

 _Feeling a heavy drop of rain, Robert looked up to the dark grey of the sky, cursing how far into the forest they had ventured. "We should move. Before we are trapped by the rain. How long is it to Nottingham?"_

 _"_ _Without horses?" Hours probably."_

 _True enough, the rain began to pelt down. In mere moments, Robert felt his hair become plastered to his head and raindrops dripped constantly down his face. He shivered as the strong wind picked up. A storm as only just beginning._

 _"_ _Locksley isn't too far from here," Marian said, teeth chattering. "We can take shelter there."_

 _Robert quickly unfastened his cloak, placing it around her shoulders. "Lead the way."_

 _Robert pounded his fist upon the first door they came upon. The heaviness of the rain made it difficult to see but eventually they had stumbled upon a mill, near to Locksley town. The door was opened by a kind looking old man who instantly ushered them inside, no questions asked. "You'll catch your death," he hurriedly said, gesturing to a roaring fireplace. Nothing had ever seemed more appealing as Robert shivered in place._

 _The man introduced himself as Lewis Burner, owner of the mill. His wife, Sarah was just as welcoming, if not more so, racing about to fetch them blankets and wine to warm them. She had an affectionate but orderly tone as she ordered her sons about, giving them tasks such as finding a spare change of clothes for Robert. Three of the sons raced off. They were all older than Robert and of similar strong build and height. The youngest son, Much, managed to walk into the wall._

 _Robert wanted nothing more than to warm himself by the fire but first he hung back to speak to his kind host. "I really can't thank you enough," he said again, overwhelmed by the kindness shown._

 _Lewis brushed it all away. "It's what any neighborly Christian man ought to do. And the very least I could do for Nobility. I'm sorry that our humble lodgings are far from what you yourself are used to."_

 _"_ _I am no Lord," Robert said, without thinking. He sighed as he realised that his new clothing spoke for him. "What I meant by that was, to you, I am little more than a stranger. And you treat us with nothing but kindness. So I cannot thank you enough."_

 _Sarah returned with Marian, having leant her a simple peasant skirt and blouse. She was beautiful, no matter what she did, but it was nice to see her away from the excessive jewels and materials. Even with dripping wet hair and features, he lost his breath a little to look upon her._

 _His reaction did not go unnoticed by Lewis. "Nice girl you've got there," he said with a wink._

 _Robert stuttered a little. "She's not- I mean, she is nice, of course but she's not mine-"_

 _Lewis just gave him an all-knowing smile._

 _One of the sons returned with a simple white shirt, frayed with age and wear. Robert thanked them profoundly all the same, heading to the fire as he shrugged away the dripping doublet. "Do you mind?" he said with a cheeky grin to Marian. "I see your roaming eyes. Kindly allow me to dress in peace."_

 _She was not amused but he only laughed harder because he was not lying. He had seen her eyes upon him._

 _"_ _So," he said as he sat down beside her, " does that happen with many suitors? Or am I just special?"_

 _"_ _What? Near death experiences? No, I must say, so far they are reserved just for you."_

 _"_ _Good. Keep it that way."_

 _Both watch the flames for a spell. "Thank you," she said, after a pause. "For everything you did today."_

 _Despite himself, he smirked. "I'll wager that really hurt you to say."_

 _"_ _It felt horrible."_

 _"_ _See! I'm not all bad am I. You have absolutely no cause to hate me."_

 _She looked surprised. "I don't hate you."_

 _"_ _And here I was thinking that you were just a little unbecoming to strangers."_

 _She pulled her blanket further around her, and in doing so inched a little closer. "I never hated you. I just have a strong dislike for suitors. And you didn't exactly help things by trying to help with my archery."_

 _Robert looked quizzical but let her continue. After a sigh, she added, "my brother was the one who trained me. He left about a year ago to fight in the crusade. And I haven't heard even one word from him since. For all I know he could be dead."_

 _"_ _He won't be," Robert told her, with complete assurance._

 _When she looked to him, he saw her completely differently. The fear in her eyes made her appear so much younger. "How can you be sure?"_

 _"_ _Because the same blood that runs in your veins, runs in his. So the stubbornness must be there too. And I can only imagine the horror of someone like you going to war. Trust me, the Saracens would flee."_

 _"_ _I would be a brilliant soldier," she said, laughing._

 _"_ _How are you with a blade?"_

 _"_ _How do you think? I am not exactly given time to practice."_

 _"_ _Well, now that I know I am not allowed to train you in archery, perhaps I could show you a few of my expert moves."_

 _"_ _Expert?" she scoffed but Robert could see the spark of hope in her eyes. It was then that he saw a large similarity between them. Both longed for more in life. But both were restricted, doomed to the menial lots as the days dragged by._

 _"_ _Well, there you go then. We have a new long term plan for you. A bit of training and you can run off and join the war. No need for marriage."_

 _"_ _That's the other reason I need my brother home. When our parents died, he became my legal guardian. Carew is fair and I am lucky to have him. But soon he will tire of me. He already is. That's why he pushed for me to be wed. Rhys would never do that. He understands me. He never wanted to wed either and found a way to avoid it. Of course, that was to go off to war, which he did. And he left me alone. Bastard."_

 _She looked to Robert as he tried to hide his pity. He could see that she was not someone who sought it. "So? That's my reason for avoiding marriage. Now tell me yours."_

 _"_ _I am not avoiding marriage! I just have no belief that marriage can be arranged by other people. It's all been so business-like. As if love could be controlled. And how can one believe that they are to find love simply within their social class? What if I was intended to marry a whore?"_

 _She laughed and he found himself losing his breath at the sound. "Or what if you were intended to marry a servant?"_

 _She gave him a confused glance, confused by his words. Robert desperately wanted to hear her answer but know not to press it. And besides, he already knew the answer. There was no chance._

 _"_ _You are a strange man. Has anyone ever told you that?"_

 _"_ _And this is coming from you?"_

 _He knew not how to respond. Suddenly his head cleared of everything. He found this to happen often when he looked at her and found her staring back. They sat very close together, arms almost touching. And when they turned slightly to face one another, he found himself unable to look away. From her lack of movement, he assumed the same could be said for her. And despite his best efforts, his eyes flicked to her lips. Time seemed to stretch into an eternity and both sat, neither wishing to break the moment._

 _But fate had a messenger. "Sorry!" Much said as he brushed the door open. His face went red when he assumed what he had walked in upon. They scrambled further apart, muttered excuses._

 _"_ _I sent a messenger to Nottingham," Much said, averting his eyes to floor, his face reddening further. "A coach should be sent to collect you soon."_

 _Robert found himself unable to concentrate for the rest of the afternoon. The Berner's were a lovely family and he enjoyed the time spent with them. But conversation was often repeated multiple times to him before he was able to respond logically. He tried his best to focus. But something internally was taking control. Curiously, most emotions were targeted toward Allen. Logic told him that he was being ridiculous. Allen was not even present. But that was the trouble. He knew then and there that he was furious at Allen. If Allen had not been so cowardly and run off, he would never have been put in this position. He would never have met Marian. But then Allen would have met her instead, hence, further jealousy. Even now, Allen could ask for Marian's hand and his wish would be granted. They could claim this whole switched identity was a rouse, easily brushed aside. And Allen would have her._

 _Robert watched Marian as she spoke with Sarah while helping to prepare the evening meal. Both laughed at something Marian said. She clearly had little experience with domestic chores. In the time it took Sarah to peel four potatoes, Marian had completed one. And that one was scrapped rather small after she accidentally peeled away too much time and time again._

 _He could deny it no more. He cared for her. Deeply. But even that was a lie. He knew that he was falling in love with her. And that could never happen._


	10. Chapter 8

_Robert walked the grounds of Nottingham for what he believed to be the last time. He had been greeted back to the castle by a very enthusiastic Lord Steffon. Robert had assumed this to be a show. Steffon was obviously playing up the distressed Father role after hearing that his son was robbed by outlaws. But there was more._

 _A distressed Amelia pulled Marian away almost instantly. Amelia had been in service to Marian's family for years. She had cared for Marian since she was a small girl and was extremely protective. That was the first instance in which Robert met Amelia and he was fixed with a deep glare of disapproval._

 _Steffon acted in a similar fashion, pulling Robert away. But his news differed form what was expected. "We leave tomorrow!" he cried happily, a step away from dancing on the spot._

 _"_ _So soon?" Robert asked, a mix of emotions flooding to him. "But we are yet to find Allen."_

 _"_ _Knowing him, he will already be back in Barnsdale. He will be fine. Meanwhile, we can all leave with our dignity intact."_

 _Robert sat in a large chair. "Has Carew said something?"_

 _Steffon sat in the opposing chair. "Yes, although he would never admit it, a higher bid has come forward. I overheard him telling his men. The Lord of Locksley shall arrive in a few days. So it was all too easy to convince him that we should be on our way."_

 _"_ _So we leave tomorrow?"_

 _"_ _Bright and early. As soon as possible."_

 _Robert clasped his hands. "I am glad that everything worked well My Lord. Now would you kindly excuse me. I feel a little faint, the air is scarce. Perhaps a walk around the ground would calm me."_

 _"_ _Robert," Steffon called, his voice commanding. Robert turned, concerned. "Thank you, for everything you have done. I understand that it can't have been easy."_

 _"_ _I am here to serve you," Robert said, hoping that he disguised the hate in his voice._

 _Apparently, he had. Steffon smiled, reclining back in the knowledge that his nightmare was ending._

 _Robert's nightmare however, was just beginning._

 _And so he walked, his thoughts uninterrupted until he heard his name. Or rather. Allen's name. It seemed that he had finally learnt to answer to it. Somehow, he knew that this was not true. He would never learnt to respond to the name 'Allen.' He had simply learnt to respond to Marian's voice._

 _He looked up to see her waving down at him from a high balcony. The hour was late and he was surrounded by darkness. The moonlight must have illuminated him enough for her to make him out. She was shadowed by the warm glow of her room and he thought her to be even more beautiful still. Her hair hung free again, curling down her pale green robe._

 _From what he could gather, he saw her raise a finger, indicating for him to wait. She turned, studying something behind her before turning back. A large oak tree grew nearby, it's higher branches reaching out, almost to where she stood. Steadying herself on the large rail, she leapt for the nearest branch._

 _Robert caught his breath in shock, but he needn't have worried. She moved with grace through the branches, never once pausing._

 _"_ _Impressed?" she called down. He could hear that she was grinning._

 _"_ _Do you have a death wish?" he said, annoying at his own concern._

 _She climbed still. "Relax. I've been doing this for years."_

 _Finally she reached the lowest branch which was still a large distance from the ground. She leapt down but he did not trust the height, raising his arms to catch her. She in turn, wrapped her arms around his neck._

 _They stayed like that for a time before he reluctantly helped her to her feet. "Thanks."_

 _"_ _So you have a strong dislike for marriage and using doors. Good to know."_

 _He looked to her smiling face and felt that same anguish. "I suppose this will be the best time to say goodbye."_

 _"_ _Goodbye?"_

 _"_ _Apparently we have completed our task. Both my Father and your guardian are appeased and we shall be moving on tomorrow. Prepare yourself for the Lord of Locksley."_

 _"_ _Oh." He was not sure if it was wishful thinking that showed the disappointment on her face. But he was near certain that it was there._

 _"_ _Lord of Locksley, aye?" she said, scrunching her nose. "That will be interesting."_

 _"_ _Do you know him?"_

 _"_ _Only in the same way I knew you before you arrived. By reputation."_

 _"_ _And what did my reputation speak about me?"_

 _She looked surprisingly sheepish. "Well, I feel I should apologise for that. I'm afraid that I judged you harshly before actually meeting you. All I knew was that you had a Father who had high political positions in his sights. He has been vying for Carew's position as Sheriff for years and knows full well that Carew wishes to retire soon."_

 _"_ _And you thought the marriage would be a stepping stone for that?" Robert said, admiring her wisdom._

 _She shrugged, looking apologetic. "Well, I suppose I was wrong about you. I thought you would be just another spoiled rich man. But- and this pains me to say- you may well be a good man."_

 _"_ _I'll bet those words hurt."_

 _She shuddered. "Be assured, you will never hear another compliment from me again."_

 _"_ _So, you admit you were wrong. I must say, I enjoy this. I hope you have learned a few lessons about people. And you never know. Maybe this Lord of Locksley will be your true love. You may go on to marry him and live happily for the rest of your days."_

 _She laughed but there was little merriment. "So… Good luck. With everything. I wish you a lifetime of happiness."_

 _Robert smiled as he raised his hand. He gently took her hand, still gazing at her and raised it to his lips._

 _Another eternity passed by as their hands remained clasped together._

 _"_ _Well, goodnight."_

 _"_ _Yes. Goodnight."_

 _No one could say who moved first. But regardless, their lips finally met._

 _Robert had never felt such happiness. Gingerly, he raised his hands to her waist, pulling her closer. Her hands rested upon his shoulders._

 _And still he kissed her. For a moment, he was able to forget everything._

 _And then that moment ended. A sharp cough caused them to leap apart. Robert looked over to see Steffon. He had known Steffon for many years and could tell when he was holding back fury. This was clearly one of those times._

 _"_ _Lady Marian," he said, maintaining a firm face. "It is awfully late for you to be out without a chaperone."_

 _"_ _I was just-" Marian stuttered but knew that she held no defense. "I should go!" she added, voice turned high in nervousness._

 _"_ _That would be best," Steffon said sternly._

 _She gave Robert a quick smile before hurrying away, looking back over her shoulder to him._

 _"_ _And now, my son," Steffon said, beginning to show traces of losing his calm, "would you kindly escort me back to my quarters? Now!"_

 _They walked in silence. Robert continued to feel a flurry of emotions. He knew the trouble he was in. And yet his heart soared._

 _The door closed behind them and Steffon snapped. "What the bloody hell were you thinking?" he yelled. Aware of their surroundings, he somehow managed to whisper as he roared. "We were so close to making it out of this. So why? Tell me, in heavens name, why you thought to do this? You want to bed her? Is that it?"_

 _"_ _Of course not!" Robert said, astounded._

 _"_ _So what? What is going through your miniscule mind?"_

 _Robert was silent, looking to the ground._

 _Steffon groaned, slumping into his same chair. "For goodness sake," he muttered. "You've fallen in love with her."_

 _Robert stepped forward beginning to defend himself before Steffon held up his hand. "No! Don't deny it. You love her and because of that you are ignoring the amount of trouble you have put us in."_

 _Indignant, Robert said, "I did not put us in this mess. Allen was the one who ran away and you were the one who insisted I impersonate him!"_

 _"_ _You dear speak to me so?"_

 _"_ _Apparently I do, 'Father.' And I never intended for any of this to happen."_

 _"_ _And yet, it did. Surely now she will be running off to Carew, insisting that we remain."_

 _Robert's mouth twitched, excited at the notion. This only aggravated Steffon further. "Yes, this is a good thing! What do you expect to happen, boy? Do you expect to continue impersonating my son? Do you think to marry her? Because you need to wake up! Tomorrow, we shall be leaving. And you are going to have to tell her why."_

 _"_ _But how?"_

 _"_ _Anything but the truth. And sadly for you, this will mean breaking her heart. And whose fault is that?"_

 _Robert stood still. Furious at the situation. "If that is all, may I please be excused?"_

 _Steffon stood, asserting himself. "You will go to your quarters and remain there."_

 _Robert swooped down into a mock bow. "Yes, Master."_

 _After Robert had left the room, Steffon rested his hands on a table, leaning forward and taking deep breaths. Robert never saw the look of regret on the man's face. But it was definitely there._

 _..._

 _Marian had fared well to mornings. But for the first time, she rose before her maids. Amelia had never coveted the task of awakening her mistress, knowing it to be a horrendous chore. This made for quite the surprise when she entered the room to see Marian almost skipping about, studying her wardrobe._

 _"_ _Good morning," she called, pulling another option forth._

 _Amelia fought the urge to ask if the girl had taken ill. "Is everything alright?"_

 _Marian responded with a large smile. "Yes, of course! I was just having trouble sleeping so I decided to get up." She suddenly looked panicked. "I don't look tired do I?"_

 _Amelia shook her head. On the contrary, she thought Marian to look surprisingly radiant. Marian smiled and went back to her ruffling._

 _"_ _What is all of this about?" Amelia asked cautiously._

 _Marian was too distracted to respond. She sighed as she ruled out a gown, flinging it back. It nearly landed upon her maid, Lilly, when she entered the room with a breakfast tray. "Watch it!" she called, loudly placing the tray down. Lilly had never been someone who greatly enjoyed her job. Taking orders had always been her own personal hell and she found small ways to show this._

 _"_ _She's acting strange," Amelia muttered._

 _"_ _Well act strange faster, Carew is waiting for you. You need to make an appearance to farewell the Barnsdale Lord."_

 _Lilly watched as Marian's head snapped to face her. She was almost certain that she must be experience neck pains._

 _"_ _What?"_

 _"_ _Remember? Today is the morning that they leave."_

 _"_ _Are you sure?"_

 _"_ _I have far more important things to be confused over. Besides, I saw the carriage being packed, didn't I?. And that was an hour ago. Must be almost ready by now."_

 _Lilly's own neck felt a sharp pain as he head snapped to follow Marian as she bolted from the room._

 _Puzzlement still held Amelia as she watched the door slowly rock closed. "Do you think she is ill?"_

 _Lilly was promptly helping herself to toasted bread from the tray. She chose not to answer, but smirked._

 _Marian ran down the stairway. Her first regret was her still bare feet as the stone sent shivers of cold through her. Surely this must be a mistake. Why would he be leaving?_

 _But sure enough, the courtyard was a buzz with busy servants, loading chests and bundles onto an already overloaded carriage. She scanned the area before a firm hand was placed on her shoulder._

 _"_ _What in God's name do you think you are doing?" Carew said, forcibly pulling her back. "Why aren't you dressed? Do you have any idea how inappropriate this is. People will think you a savage. This is exactly the sort of madness that needs to cease!"_

 _Marian could see the anger in his eyes but also the exhaustion. He was tired of having to cope with a young rebellious woman. Little did he know, she was doing everything in her power to be free of him. "Have they left?"_

 _Carew was surprised by the urgency in her voice. "No but-"_

 _That was all the knowledge she needed as she ran off._

 _The dampness of the ground worsened her steps as she shivered. Yesterday's antics had already given her ill health as she could feel her throat and nose tickling. Common sense urged her inside, with the knowledge that they would not leave for a time yet. But she remained rooted in place._

 _And finally she saw him. He was across the courtyard, speaking to a young servant boy. She thought his name to be Benjamin or something along those lines. She recognised him from around the halls. The boy had always seemed so nervous and fragile. But here he was smiling and happy. She smiled, seeing how kindness was another quality that Lord Allen possessed._

 _The young boy saw her, jerking his head to his companion. But when the Lord looked to her, Marian did not see the normal happiness that tended to ensue. And all too quickly she remembered her reason for distress, quickly walked over._

 _"_ _Marian, what are you doing out here? And dressed like that?" He pulled her back slightly by the upper arm and she wondered if she shamed him by dressing so. Perhaps he was not everything she had hoped. Or maybe, she was just looking for reasons to guard her feelings._

 _She needn't have worried. He only moved to be out of the way to once more remove his cloak to place it upon her shoulders. She shivered into it, immediately feeling the heat from his body that still nestled there._

 _"_ _Sorry, I just thought I would have had more time to say goodbye."_

 _He looked away, and she struggled to maintain eye contact. "I told you I was leaving."_

 _Defensive seemed an optical path to take. "And nothing has changed since then?"_

 _Finally, he looked at her. And she found herself missing the time when she could not meet his gaze. For there was so much sorrow there. She knew to not expect good news. "Like I said, it's time to go."_

 _She squinted slightly, but not due to sunlight. "Alright," she said quietly. "Was it something I've done? Just, you know, for future reference. So I know not to do it again for future suitors."_

 _"_ _Of course not."_

 _"_ _So why the haste?"_

 _She could have sworn that for a moment, he looked over to his Father. But when she turned to look upon Lord Steffon, he had turned to a nearby servant to say something._

 _"_ _You could always come and visit you know. You did promise to train me with a blade."_

 _"_ _I'm sure that your brother will assist you when he returns."_

 _"_ _Or maybe I could come to Barnsdale."_

 _"_ _No! You couldn't!"_

 _She found herself stepping back at the cruel firmness in his voice. It was a tone she had never heard him use before. "Oh…" she said, finally understanding. "That's fine then." She knew that she was doomed. For years she had been meeting men. Some were drunks. Some were violent. Most were consumed by greed. Some were a horrible combination. The few that showed kindness were at least twice her age. And finally, she had met someone. And now that someone had no feelings for her._

 _She watched him look over the courtyard, clearly contemplating an exit. But he turned back. She did not think that any words could make her feel worse than she did. But apparently she was wrong. "I'm in love," he said quietly. "I'm in love with this wonderful girl. And this is a real shock because Lord knows I hated her at first. But I can never be with her."_

 _Each word was a dagger for Marian, being plunged deeper. "Why?"_

 _"_ _It would never be allowed. Let's just say, the class system is against us."_

 _He so desperately wanted her to listen closely to his words. But Marian was instantly picturing a beautiful young servant girl. And inwardly she cursed them both. But the Lady in her demanded that on the outside, she smile. "Well, I wish you a lifetime of happiness," she said, hoping her voice did not give her away. "Now if you'll excuse me, I should probably go and make myself half way decent."_

 _He smiled, wishing that he could tell her how perfect she already was._

 _She turned back, despite trying her best not to. "Is she prettier than me?"_

 _Regardless of the situation, he genuinely laughed. "Shall we call it a draw?"_

 _She grimaced._

 _Marian had almost reach the large doorway when a commotion caused her to look back._

 _Two guards were dragging forth a disheveled man. His blonde hair was streaked with dirt, as were his torn clothes. Stubble covered his chin. His eyes peered desperately around the courtyard before settling on Lord Steffon. "Father!" he called, in exuberance._

 _Carew looked across sharply. "I was not aware that you had another son," he said in a hushed voice._

 _Steffon mumbled something, quickly striding forward._

 _But it was too late. "Robert!" he called, looking to his friend._

 _Steffon faltered in place, knowing that there were not enough words in the English language to talk himself out of this._

 _Marian leant against a ledge, her fingers gripping onto it._

 _"_ _What the bloody hell is going on here!" Carew yelled._

 _Steffon gulped. "That is my son, Lord Allen."_

 _And before he knew it, Robert was also restrained._

 _He tried to look for Marian, but she had already fled._


	11. Chapter 9

"So do we have a plan?" Benny asked Robin. They had run far through Sherwood, nearer to Nottingham than they had expected. It seemed that Robin knew little of when they would actually pass by and therefore wanted to be prepared for anything.

Robin smiled confidently but looked sideward. "Well… One could call it a plan in progress."

"In other words, no," Allen said, hoping that his annoyance was apparent. "And not from lack of trying. How many plans did I offer up? But no. You want to _just see how things go._ "

"How hard can it be?" Robin asked. "I doubt that the Sheriff would arm the carriage with many guards."

"And if he did?"

"Then you can say that you were right and we will never hear the end of it!" he said, clapping Allen on the back.

"Great," Allen grumbled but no one was listening. "What a prize."

Friar Tuck was the only one who took any notice. "Robin is right Allen," he said in that soothing voice. He had been the one to warn of them the Sheriff's plans. Robin had always revelled in the fact that one of their most trusted spies was a clergymen. But Tuck was so much more than just a spy, he was also their friend. He was a small man but slightly large of belly. Only small tufts of hair remained around his bald head. Given his jolly appearance, it amused Allen to no end that this was one of the few men who had controlling sway over Robin. So when Friar Tuck informed them of the Sheriff transporting slaves through Sherwood, they naturally had to race to the rescue. It had been a calm few weeks since the failed execution and Allen had enjoyed the peace. But he could see from his friends face that Robin enjoyed the action far more.

The morning had been bountiful with five carriages and three carts, robbed quickly and easily. But the thing that took their notice was a single rider fast approaching them from the direction of Nottingham. It was Tuck with instructions of changing their plans. So instead of a well thought out plan, they were to act like barbarians and simply attack the guards. Sometimes, Allen did not know why he bothered.

John appeared, lugging a large cart behind him. Even with his abundance of strength, he seemed to be struggling a tad. His face was a little too red with the effort. He dropped it with quite the crash. "Yes, no one help!" he said dramatically.

"Actually, I wanted a little to the left," Robin said with a daring twinkle in his eye.

John raised his quarterstaff menacingly. "You move it then," he muttered darkly. The cart was a leftover item from a previous raid that morning. It involved a cowardly Earl who had cut his horse free and fled instantly. It all worked out well as it made for the perfect prop.

"I don't see why I have to play the beggar!" Leon groaned as Thomas took great pleasure in rubbing dirt over his face and through his hair.

"It is the penance of being a new Merry Man," Thomas said with a chuckle. "We all had our demeaning times, now it is your turn."

"Is the mud really necessary?" Leon squeaked. Despite himself, he was still used to being in a life of splendour. Mud was still foreign. Knowing this, Thomas rubbed all the harder.

"We need the horses to stop," Matthew told him kindly, explaining once more. "It would be too difficult to attack them elsewise. So you just have to stand there, pretend that your cart broke and enforce the fact that you are blind. Blind beggars cannot simply move their own carts. So they have to stop to clear the path and that is when we attack."

"Yes, yes, I know," Leon grumbled. "But I still find the mud unnecessary."

"Yes but it is mighty fun," Thomas said with a grin.

The sound of footsteps drew our eyes to Much as he ran down the path toward us. 'They're almost here," he called, fulfilling his job of lookout.

"I will wait a little way down the track," Tuck said regretfully. We all knew that he could never be seen with us. Everyone else headed into the shelter of the trees.

"John wait!" Robin called, looking to the cart. "They have to believe that the cart broke and that the horse ran off."

John strode forward and a quick motion, kicked hard at one of the wheels. With a mighty crack, the wood tore apart and the wheel fell clean away. "Remind me to never get on your bad side," Matthew said, slightly wide eyed as he followed John and Much to the left side of the track. Thomas and Roger went to the other. Robin, Benny and Allen ran a little way down the track and climbed low branches, bows at the ready.

Finally the party came into sight. There were six guards in total, one riding out in front, two on either side and one bringing up the rear. It was looking far too easy. What caught the outlaw's attention was the carriage that they rode alongside. It was a cage. And a small one at that. Inside there were about thirty people, men and woman. And even the occasional child. From what Tuck had told them, they knew that they were the servants of a French Lord. This Lord had wanted to gain favour with Prince John and had given away a number of his slaves.

The men hidden beside the track looked up to Robin for confirmation. But Robin held up a hand, not convinced that they needed to attack.

Leon's cart blocked a great majority of the track. Horses could easily pass it but there was no way of passing the carriage by without stopping. Leon played his part well. We had wrapped a stray piece of torn cloth around his eyes but even without this he would be convincing. He seemed to have a secret gift as he stumbled about the track, calling out for help. Allen had to work to maintain a straight face.

The leader in front of the carriage called for his men to halt and looked in anger at this delay. "Move out of the way immediately!" he said with menace and a strong French accent.

"I would, Milord," Leon said, even adding stutter to his voice. "Bu-but my cart! I fear that it has lost a wheel! And my horse! She fled. Please, oh please help me."

The guard rolled his eyes and waved a hand at two of his men. They were far less strong than John and could not even lift from the ground between the two of them. "Fools," The head guard muttered and gestured for two more to help. They too dismounted and struggled desperately.

Robin finally felt assured and confidently strode out, bow nocked and ready. "I'm afraid that slavery is not permitted in Sherwood," Robin said.

The Guard narrowed his eyes. "On whose authority."

"Whose do you think?" Robin said. Benny and Allen joined him, arrows also at the ready. The Guards leapt back as they saw the rest of the Merry Men emerge from the trees.

"You think to fight us," the Guard said, filled with fury.

"What gave us away?" Robin asked sarcastically.

"Well you have made quite the mistake!" the Guard said. Benny grew bored, knowing that he would just make a speech of our impending doom that he would never be able to bring about. He had heard it all before. So he lowered his bow and instead pulled a slingshot from his belt. Alongside it was a large stone. He weighed it up in his hand, judging the strength he would need. Then he quickly placed the stone in the slingshot, pulled back and sent the stone soaring. It flew quickly across the path to strike the Guard hard on his forehead. His eyes rolled back as he fell backward from his horse to the forest floor.

"Anyone else?" Robin asked charmingly. The other guards proved rather cowardly as they lay their weapons down. "Look at that Allen," Robin said to me, "Looks like my _lack of plan_ worked rather well, don't you think?"

Allen rolled my eyes as he pulled some rope from his satchel and threw it to Matthew so the guards could be restrained. Benny held them all with his bow whilst Matthew, Much and Roger tied.

The rest of the outlaws turned their attention to those in the cart. It was obvious that the majority of these folk could not speak in a word in English. So they could not tell that they were being rescued. They saw only the weapons and thought the outlaws were another enemy. And they let their fear show. The cage was cruelly small, but they still found a way to race about it, trying desperately to get themselves as far from the bars as possible. Some screamed. Others muttered in what appeared to be prayer. Robin tried his best to calm them but even standing near to them only worsened their panicked state. He looked to Allen in desperation, knowing that he must have had lessons in French. But Allen looked to the ground nervously. He had always hated the French language and had quickly given up paying attention in those dreary lessons.

Robin gave him a look of incredulous disbelief. So he turned to Leon who looked just as lost.

Finally he turned to Much. "I can't speak French!" Much said with a laugh.

"I never would have guessed," Robin said sarcastically. "But you can whistle."

Much placed those cursed two fingers and once more let out that horrid high-pitched sound. Slaves and outlaws alike covered their ears and were silent.

And then we were surprised as a young girl pushed her way to the front of the carriage, shaking all the while. She must have been in her eleventh year, maybe twelfth. Her long red hair was plaited down her back. She looked to Robin bravely and said, "I speak English."

"Oh thank goodness," Thomas muttered.

Robin looked to her kindly, making a large gesture of untying his sword from his belt and throwing it far away. "Thank you," he said warmly. "Now would you please tell the others that we mean them no harm?"

The girl nodded slowly and spoke to the others in French. They still looked uncertain.

"Tell them that I am Robin Hood. And I will protect them."

A fair few looked up in surprise when he spoke his name. The girl spoke again. Gentle murmurings broke out as those who did not understand were quickly told. But they still seemed terrified.

Robin turned to Allen. "Did any of the guards have a key?" Matthew tossed over a small bronze key that seemed to match the lock. But before Robin opened it, he spoke again to the girl. "Can you please tell them that everyone is more than welcome to leave? But they would have to fend for themselves. And this is a dangerous place, especially for those who do not speak the language. But I swear I will protect you all. You just have to trust me. If you choose to stay, I will not let anything happen to you."

Finally they seemed to calm as she spoke and Robin unlocked the cage. No one moved.

"Nicely done," Tuck said as he joined them. "So do you have a plan?"

Allen scoffed at the idea which Robin happily ignored. "You said that we could hide them at the Church. We can feed them there, get them warm. Then find out their trades. And find them somewhere safe."

They spoke quietly, knowing now that there was now someone who could understand them. "You're not going to hand us over to them are you?" the girl asked, tears in her eyes.

"What did the Sheriff want them for anyway?" John asked.

"They were sending us to Edwalton," the girl said quietly.

Leon looked shocked. "No one lives there for good reason," he explained. "That was the location of one of the worst cases petulance that England has ever seen. It was quarantined too late and it began to spread. But by the time they released the quarantine, everyone was dead."

"Why would the Sheriff send slaves there?" Will asked, disgusted.

"Someone has to farm the land," the girl said.

"Economic gain," Leon muttered darkly.

The girl seemed to be getting more terrified. Robin stood close and smiled warmly at her. "What is your name?"

"Polly," she said.

"Well, Polly," he said. "I swear to you that you will never see that village."

Something about his words managed the smallest of smiles from her. "Thank you."

Allen busied himself with the issue of getting everyone in Nottingham. The cage would have to be abandoned of course. Far too conspicuous. He began to sort them into groups so that a few Merry Men would go with each group under a different guise. Quite a few Merry Men came to help, offering ideas and what not.

Allen was far too busy to notice Roger. He had separated himself from the group and was sitting in a trance off to the side. Robin however did notice and went to speak to him. "Are you alright?" he asked in concern. Roger was one of his most stable men he knew and had never acted in such a fashion.

Roger simply nodded. Not very convincingly. Finally he said, "I think I should go back to camp."

"Not unless you give me a good reason," Robin said.

Roger stared at the cart. More specifically at Polly.

Robin looked to. And his face changed in surprise. For he saw the similarities. "Is she…?" he asked, but trailed off when he realised how strange it would sound.

But Roger nodded. "She is my daughter."

Allen froze where he stood, pretending that he had not heard. He was instantly racking his brains, thinking back to that fire, trying desperately to remember the names of the dead. He remembered arriving in Doncastor, completely clueless as to why they were there. And then he saw Roger, in the worst state of fury and pain he had ever witnessed.

All he knew was that there had been a fire. A fire that had killed a Mother and her two children.

The young girl had been called Polly.

...

The Sheriff glanced yet again toward the main road. But still he saw nothing. Exactly what he did not want to see.

His guards stood nervously, knowing full well what the Sheriff was prone to do when his plans went awry. He had a tendency to take out his anger on those around him. And one could easily tell that his anger was brewing.

They stood as near as they dared to the village entrance. Some believed that even breathing in the air could be a cause of the plague. That was the terrifying aspect. No one knew the cause. All that was none was that there was no way to stop it.

But innocent lives meant little to the Sheriff. As long as tasks were completed. If the slaves lived, he would know the pestilence was over. And if they died, they were easily replaced.

"How long have we been standing here?" he asked calmly.

No man had the courage to answer. And besides, words were not needed. The cause of his problems was rather obvious. Even a fool could see.

Finally there was movement. The guards in question limped into view. Without the desired slaves. The Sheriff's fists clenched tightly. "Why would you dare show your faces here without my slaves?" he said, trying to withhold the fury.

They looked to each other, begging each other with glances for someone else to speak first. Finally, their leader stepped forward. The Sheriff noted the large bruise on his forehead and took slight pleasure from it. But that was where the good news ended.

"We were ambushed," he said, voice quivering, "by…"

"Don't you dare speak his name!" the Sheriff roared. He turned on his heel, striding slightly. He buried his face in one hand as he rubbed away the emerging headache. As he sighed, those around him thought how well he seemed to be handling everything. He absentmindedly flicked a hand to one of his own men who strode forward and stabbed his sword deep into the opposing leader. "The rest of you can go into the village," the Sheriff said, looking to Edwalton. "Start the test early. See how long you last."

Their terror was delicious. But it did not solve his problem. "Just once," he muttered to himself. "Just once, I would like something to go my way."

"Shall we return M'lord?" one guard asked, terror all over his face.

The Sheriff froze at his words. "Return? Return to what? Hood has defeated me again! I shall have those slaves and I shall have them now!"

The guard stammered, "but just before you were complaining. Saying that you did not particularly need them."

"Yes, but that was before Hood came into things!" the Sheriff said, not caring that he sounded like a child.

"M'lord," another guard said, pointing to the path, "Someone is approaching."

He was right. A lone rider was fast approaching them. The Sheriff raised a hand to his brow to block out the sun. But it was soon apparent that he did not know this man. And the Sheriff did not trust what he did not know. Whoever it was, he was handsome. Everything seemed too perfect. It made the Sheriff feel a little sick. Those perfect blue eyes and fair hair repulsed him. He was tall and well built, dressed modestly but in a tunic of fine dark blue material. A large leather belt held a fine blade that the Sheriff admired for a moment too long. It was the blade of a warrior. The Sheriff narrowed his eyes, awaiting the approach.

The stranger dismounted and looked to the Sheriff with a look that the Sheriff had not seen in a long time. Finally he figured out what it was. The man did not look to him in fear. Another repulsive aspect. Or perhaps not. It was rather refreshing.

"You are the Sheriff I take it?" he said, still displaying genuine confidence.

"Who wants to know?" the Sheriff asked curiously.

The man smiled. "Guy of Gisbourne.

The Sheriff looked unimpressed. "And this is important to me because?"

Gisbourne dismounted as he said, "I am currently in the service of Lord Drayton. He sent me to ensure you received his gift."

"Well you can go back and tell your Lord Drayton that his debts are far from settled because no slaves were received!"

"He feared that would happen," Gisbourne said. "That is why he sent me."

The Sheriff paused, still off-put that the man had not so much as shuddered in his presence. "You mean to say that you will retrieve them?"

"That is why he sent me," Gisbourne repeated.

Something was not right but the Sheriff could not quit pinpoint what it was. "Why did he not send you with the rest of them?"

"Well he hoped that he would not need me. I am more of a safety precaution. One that he hoped he would not need."

The Sheriff was still far from trusting him. But what did he have to lose?

Gisbourne smiled as he saw the other man relenting. "Tell me everything you know and I assure you, you will have your slaves."

Finally, the makings of a smile appeared on the Sheriff's face. "Those are the words I like to hear. I think I could learn to like you Gisbourne."


	12. Chapter 10

It was clear to see that the outlaws needed a tad more practice when it came to their communication levels. And after a countless hours of practice, they were getting no better. All that was accomplished was the fact that Robin's arms were extremely sore afterward from the unnecessary over gesturing.

Polly was the unsung angel as she raced about, calming any final fears and communicating between cultures as incredible speed. Her hair began to stand on edge with the effort. She had begun the day with a tidy long red plait. Within a few hours, it was a complete birds nest of stray locks standing in whatever direction they saw fit. Her face was also flushed, matching her hair perfectly. Despite the situation, she looked completely happy and full of life.

Robin stifled laughter as he watched Allen storm away from yet another Frenchman. They were no longer terrified of course. Now they were just frustrated. And they were beginning to treat the Merry Men as though they were the problem. It was beginning to get on Allen's nerves. "That cocky little…" he began to mutter was greeted by a warning glance from Robin. "I hate the French," he continued to mutter quietly.

"Allen, they have been forcibly taken from their homes and families to the threat of death. How do you think you would be acting?"

"With a tad more grace toward my rescuers! And besides, they don't seem to have families. Reoccurring theme I think I am beginning to see."

"Excellent!" Leon said, with a tad too much enthusiasm. He quickly gathered himself. "I did not mean that it was excellent that they had no families. I just mean that it would make our plan slightly easier."

"Plan?" Allen asked in confusion. "What plan?"

"I can think of plans without you, you know," Robin said, pretending to sound hurt.

Allen did not believe him in the slightest. "This is you we are talking about. The Lord of Improvisation."

"I like that name," Robin said thoughtfully. "Remind me to add that to every one of my wanted posters."

Allen just groaned. "Robin? The plan?"

"Right of course. Well it isn't exactly as a plan so much as a-"

"I knew it!"

"Let me finish! We have a rough idea that just might work."

"I am waiting with baited breath," Allen said flatly with absolutely no enthusiasm.

Robin paused, searching his brain for the best words. "Leon! You explain it better than anyone."

Leon shrugged as he sat down once more to continue with his notes. Being one of the few literate Merry Men had some privileges. A makeshift writing desk had been formed from an old crate and he sat beside it, scribbling away. "Well, we help those who want to go back to France obviously. But there is only so much we can do for them. We cannot exactly take them back ourselves. So best we can do is get them to the docks. Now that may be good enough for some of them but Robin and I think that we could go a step further."

"Do you now?"

"Don't sound so surprised," Robin said, squinting his eyes accusingly.

Leon carried on, ignoring the banter. "Because frankly, why would they wish to return to France anyway? Back to a life of slavery? Robin suggested that we help them begin afresh here in Nottingham."

"Easy as that?" Allen asked flatly. "I see no problems with this plan at all. Nothing in the slightest. We could do it in our sleep."

"Alright, Lord of Sarcasm," Robin said. And of course his eyes lit up again. "That is rather good too! Now we know what to add to your wanted posters!"

"Can we focus on that lot please?" Allen asked, jerking his arm backward.

Robin just stretched out on his pew, calm as ever. "Oh come on Allen! It shant be that hard! Polly is helping us work out the trade of each individual. And then I will go pay a visit to good Old Val."

"The Servant mistress?" Allen asked, racking my brains to try and recall her face. I had never had a lot of interaction with such folk in Nottingham. Robin on the other hand, had once served under her.

"Now do you see my genius?"

Allen began to reply but stopped when he saw Tuck pulling open the main Church doors to allow Marian entry. Allen knew from experience that the little attention Robin had paid to him before was about to be long gone. True to form, he was gone before Allen had even had the time to turn around. "Just let him go mate," Leon said with a chuckle still scratching away with his quill. Groaning, Allen listened to the advice, sat down to assist.

"Just who we need!" Robin said with a flourish as he strode over.

Marian slunk back as if his mere presence disgusted her. She proceeded to ignore him and only look toward Tuck. "What am I doing here Tuck? You need to be more specific in your summons."

"I will give three guesses," Tuck said, gesturing to the scene ahead of them.

Finally she looked to Robin and glared. "What have you done this time?"

He placed a hand to his heart. "Why would you automatically assume that this was my doing?"

She just gave him one of those looks, which naturally did not phase him in the slightest. "Well, I will have you know that I am saving this lot. And I need your help."

"No," she said simply.

"Marian!" Tuck said in surprise. "There are innocent people in dire trouble and you refuse to help because you are irrationally upset?"

She muttered a little about how she wasn't being irrational but eventually saw the light. "What do you want me to do?" she said with a deep sigh.

"You can speak French, can't you? Use the wonder of the spoken word to help the outlaws communicate. They are at a bit of a loss sadly."

"It isn't my fault that I hate France!" Allen said defensively. "I hate the people, the language, the culture, the history and basically everything French.

"Care to say that a little louder?" Robin said. Allen was unperturbed.

Leon walked over and nudged Marian on the shoulder. "It seems that you have an admirer."

She looked at Robin with exasperation. "Will you stop?"

Robin held up his hands in defence. "What did I do now?"

Leon sighed. "For once, I was not talking about him." He subtly gestured his head to Polly, who was half hidden beside one of the pews, staring intently at Marian. At the sight of us moving, she quickly ducked down, only to re-emerge a few moments alter to stare again.

"One of the slaves," Leon said quietly. "The only one who can speak English. So she has had quite the morning and must be tired and panicked. The poor child has been forced to hold back her own emotions to seem brave for the others. So maybe it is about time she had a slight reward? Why you go and spend some time with her?"

"You brought me down here to care for a child?" Marian asked in annoyance.

"Well originally it was to help with translation," Tuck said. "But that very brave little girl did it all for you. So you can repay her by giving her a bit of attention."

"Why would she want me?" Marian asked in surprise.

"I am talking about her admiration. Everything about your life seems magical. And that is just from lowly Saxons. This is a slave girl. What grandeur do you think she has been introduced to? So when you walk here, looking like… well, looking how you do, you must see the admiration she feels."

"You know that this will not help her ego right?" Leon asked quietly.

"Trust me," Tuck said to Marian, ignoring Leon's words. "Just go give her some attention. I assure you, you will have a willing follower."

"I'm doing this for them, not you!" she said to Robin as she walked away.

"Wouldn't expect anything less," Robin called back. Then he turned back to us. "Guess I should be going soon then. I will head off and see Val."

"What makes you think she will listen to you?" Leon asked.

"I used to work for her, sort of. I suppose I was in a different part of service when I worked in Nottingham but at least she knows me."

"Take Lilly as well," Allen called over, looking over to where Lilly was pretending to help Amelia with food for everyone. "She looks bored out of mind. And Val actually likes her."

"Val likes me!" Robin said, "Everyone likes me."

No one bothered to respond.

The doors opened suddenly and we were instantly on edge. But thankfully on Roger entered. "Well it is about time! I called over. "Where have you been aye?"

He hurried over, positioning himself carefully until he was near completely hidden from view. Speaking quietly to Robin, he said, "The Sheriff has made a public announcement. He wants the slaves back."

"Well that is a shame for him then," Robin said.

"He said that if they are no returned to him by sundown, he will capture them by force and slaughter them all."

"That doesn't sound like much of a deal?" Leon said in disgust. "Protect them against getting instantly slaughtered, or hand them over to be worked to death."

"Well luckily, he will never find them," Robin said confidently.

"There is something else," Roger said. "When I was heading… to where we discussed, I saw a lone rider riding through Sherwood. I wouldn't have paid him the slightest heed of attention, since I was alone and all. But that jingling was a damned sweet sound. Which got me to thinking, we never ever hear people flaunting their wealth in Sherwood. You know how people are. They sew coins into their undergarments or stuff them in cushions or work them into the construction of their carriages or-"

"We get it," Robin said. "Rich folk are tricky. What is your point?"

"My point is that, what sort of fool would travel so openly with no guard and with that much gold? So either he was a complete fool, or-"

"Or?" Leon pressed.

"Or he was hoping to be caught."

Something about those words created a slight shiver up Allen's spine. People who sought to face us could never be a good thing.

If Robin felt the same, he showed no sign. "So what did you do?"

"I went to get a closer look. And I swear, I was being incredibly quiet. And yet somehow, he knew I was there. So he dismounted and pointed a sword in my direction. He wanted to see you Robin."

"What did you do?" Leon asked, nervously. He did not like where this tale was headed.

"I told him where to get off in my politest language," Roger said, eyeing Tuck. He knew full well the consequences of cursing in front of a Friar. Tuck had halted that habit early on.

"Something tells me that that did not quite work out," Allen said.

"Lord of Sarcasm strikes again," Robin muttered with a twinkle in his eye.

"Well, while I was saying it, I looked to his horse actually. And I recognised a symbol that was on the saddle. It was the flag that the guards wore. He is connected to these people here. And I don't think it will be good news for us."

"So what did you do?" Leon prompted, still nervous.

Roger looked sheepish. "I fought him of course. Figured that a few strong blows would drive him back and send him running."

The others finally took in Roger's appearance. His green tunic displayed many tears and was covered in dirt. He almost bore a few dark bruises. "I take it that your _fight_ didn't go as you planned," Robin said with slight amusement."

Roger finally displayed his worry. "That's the thing. I have never seen someone fight so well."

He should have thought over his words before voicing them. Robin's head jerked in his direction. "Well I suppose that I best go and meet him then."

"Robin!" Allen said warningly, "what about this lot? We have a deadline now!"

"Trust me Allen," he said with far too much confidence, "this won't take long. Where did you leave him?"

"The great oak," Roger said.

"He just let you go?" Leon asked. "How did he know that you would come back? And how did he even know that you were a Merry Man?"

"I saw the satchel on his horses saddle. It was full of wanted posters. Our wanted posters." And for the first time, I suspected that I saw a flicked of worry in Roger's face. "I don't trust this man Robin."

Robin however, never showed a sign of worry. "You lot stay here. Roger and I will be right back."

Allen had never liked when his friend said that.


	13. Chapter 11

"So what is this man's name anyway?" Robin asked as they rode. Thankfully it was all to easy to _borrow_ horses in Nottingham, considering their hurry.

"Sir Guy of Gisbourne," Roger said warily.

"Sir aye?" Robin said with a whistle. "Then why have I never heard of him?"

Roger just shrugged. "He could be a French Lord."

"Well was he French?"

Robin squinted in the sunlight. "Well… no."

There was a moment of silence that Roger was clearly not going to break. "So?" Robin prompted, dragging out the word for far longer than needed.

"So what?" Roger asked, still using the sun as an opportunity to never look at Robin.

"Aren't you going to ask what I know you want to ask?"

"There is nothing I want to know," Roger said plainly.

Robin snorted. "Not even about, oh I don't know, your daughter perhaps?"

Roger yanked on his horses reign, coming to an abrupt stop.

Robin groaned as he gently pulled upon his won reigns. "Roger, we don't have time for you to act like this."

"Exactly," Roger said angrily. "So shall we focus on this man then? Yes? Good."

Robin shrugged and clicked his tongue to his horse. He knew a stubborn man when he knew one and knew better than to try to break through.

But Roger surprised him by relenting. "Fine!' Roger said, "Is she alright?"

Robin smiled. "She is incredible. I have never seen a child be so brave and mature. She must have so terrified. And yet she put all of that aside to help the others. She was braver than all of the other slaves put together. But there is definitely some of your fire there in her. When I left, she was practically forcing Marian to sit still so that she could braid her hair. And I have never seen someone order Marian about in such a fashion."

It was impossible to not see the pride beaming from Roger. But he said nothing.

"You don't have to tell me what happened," Robin assured him warmly. "Trust me, I carried around a secret for a year. I just wanted to shut Marian away from my memories. And I worried what you would all think of me. How she almost died because of me. And how I left her like that. It haunted me. But I will say this. Having her back in my life has been the most wonderful thing."

"I didn't ask your opinion," Roger said, bubbling up anger.

"Of course," Robin said, knowing that this was not a good time.

"Can we please just get her and the others to safety?" Roger asked, his voice cracking slightly. "Then, once I know she will be safe, I can think straight about things."

"We are getting close," Robin said in answer, changing the subject.

Roger smiled his thanks.

Gisbourne sat in a relaxed fashion upon one of the larger roots of the enormous tree. It had always been one of the outlaw's main meeting points but this was the first time that someone other than a Merry Men had been greeted here.

Robin dismounted with ease, handing his reigns over to Roger. This was a clear message. He wanted to show that this was his fight and Roger was to stay back. Roger was all too happy to oblige, feeling the throbbing of his bruises.

Gisbourne rose just as easefully. Robin noted that he did not draw his sword. This concerned him. No man had ever faced him so bravely.

"You wanted to see me?" Robin asked sternly. "You are Guy of Gisbourne I presume."

"That I am," Gisbourne replied. "And I assume you to be Robin Hood."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Gisbourne looked him up and down. "You are just, not quite what I expected."

Robin did not know how to react to such a comment. So he moved on. "You bear the insignia of a Lord who has just become my enemy. And yet you draw no weapon on me. Which side are you on exactly? And pick your answer wisely."

Gisbourne laughed at his words. It was a strange action. There was no trace of malice in it. The laugh seemed to be of actual good humour. "Oh if only you knew," he said.

Robin was not amused by his words. "Answer the question."

Gisbourne held up his hands to show his good intentions. "Well, I was sent here by the enemy Lord in question to ensure the ease of his _transaction_ for lack of a better term."

"So you are our enemy?"

"Well, after I arrived I did swear allegiance to the Sheriff under the plan of bringing you here, tricking you into telling me their location and forcibly retrieving them."

"Why are you telling me this," Robin said.

"Because, while I swore to serve your Sheriff, I only did so with the intention of double crossing him instead."

"So you serve a foreign Lord, swearing allegiance to another enemy, only to help us instead," Robin said.

"So you see the difficulty I face when answering whose side I am on," Gisbourne said with a smile.

"Just answer it," Robin said, angered. "Whose side are you on?"

Gisbourne considered. "My own. Or rather, my friends." He continued on to answer Robin's confusion. "A good friend of mine was taken with the slaves. Simon. Do you know of him?"

Robin nodded. One of the younger men amongst the slaves was Simon. Robin had only spoken to him briefly but he could tell that he was a good man. "Why would a Lord like you befriend a slave?" Robin asked accusingly.

Gisbourne clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Now, I would have thought that you of all people would believe in equality. Why should I not be a friend to him? You are questioning your own cause now."

Gisbourne's good humour was wasted on Robin, who still had his sword in his hand. Smile finally wavering, Gisbourne asked, "you don't trust me, do you?"

"You haven't exactly given me cause to."

"Just take me to Simon, he will speak for me. Then you could possibly be on the road to finally trusting me."

"Take you to the slaves? After you just admitted to how you are working for the Sheriff? This could all be a rouse."

"So blindfold me. Tie me up. Do what you wish. But I assure you, Simon will speak for me. And I swear to you, I mean them no harm. I often had business Lord Tysord and so I constantly interacted with members of his household. Trust me, I would much rather be around them than that horrid man. Especially Polly."

"What of Polly?" Roger said, suddenly drawing his sword.

Finally, Gisbourne showed the slightest sense of discomfort, even if he did not know why. Robin smiled slightly, seeing how easily a Father's love would come through. "I meant nothing by that. Only that she is a lovely child. I assure you, she will speak for me too. Anyway, when they were taken, I knew that I had stop it. But by the time I found out, it was too late and they were gone. So I spoke of you lot, knowing and praying that you would in fact do something to stop it. I offered my services to Lord Drayton in assurance that they would reach the Sheriff. From that, I gained the knowledge of which port they would arrive in and which route they would take. I boarded a faster boat and prayed that I would reach Briton before them. Apparently I was a smidgen too late."

"And what did you intend to do once you found them?" Robin asked.

Gisbourne shrugged, in a familiar way. "Do I really look like a man with a plan?"

Robin considered.

It seemed that Roger had completely stepped into a Father type role as he pulled Robin away. "I don't trust him. Surely you feel the same."

Robin hesitated.

"Well what help can he really be? If he is truly on our side, great. But we have a plan that does not require particular skill."

"He is a Noble," Robin said, thinking aloud. "We could use a few more on the inside for the purpose of sneaking them into the castle."

"And if he is lying?" Roger asked, biting back fury.

Robin looked to his friend. "Then I swear to you, I will fight him until he is an inch away for death and I will let you deliver the final blow. But for now, I think we can trust him."

Roger just gave him a look. A look that said _you will rue this day_.

He was completely right.

...

"I don't trust that man," Robin grumbled.

Lilly laughed. She had always possessed one of those hilariously contagious laughs. Robin found himself strangely immune. "Oh you can't be serious," she said, noting his glum face.

"There is just something about him," Robin grumbled.

"Oh stop it!" Lilly said, lifting a hand off of her reigns to stop him. "You trusted him enough to bring him back into range of the slaves. You are just acting this way because of Marian."

Robin grunted. "As if."

Lilly only laughed harder. "You do realise that you are acting like a child?"

"Good," he said after a pause. He had nothing clever to say. He was too angry with himself to think. His damned instincts should have warned him that Gisbourne was trouble. But things had run so smoothly. Simon had been overjoyed to see his old friend and had babbled away to him in French. Robin just smiled and pretended to understand.

Gisbourne was near swamped when they arrived. He had clearly not been lying. They all adored him. Robin was already a tad annoyed at the ease Gisbourne had created in them while a mere hour before, he had resulted in them quivering in fear.

"We come bearing wine!" Thomas called, brimming over with excitement as he and Marian came back into the main part of the church, each holding trays of goblets.

"That is for communion!" Tuck said, the closest to angry that Robin had ever seen him.

Thomas only laughed. "Would you really deny these poor, innocent, terrified and vulnerable slaves one small mouthful of happiness?"

Tuck was spared replying when Marian gasped loudly and dropped her tray. Wine went pouring all over the front pews and proceeded to flow down the aisles. " _Quick_! _Save it!_ " Thomas roared, dropping down to desperately attempt to scoop up and droplets.

Marian did not pay him the slightest flicker of attention. "Guy," she breathed.

Robin looked in surprise to the man next to him. Gisbourne was already hurrying over to help Marian as she knelt down to attempt to stop the wine flow.

"Oh no!" Polly exclaimed. "Marian! Your gown." Clearly to the young girl, that would prove to be the worst tragedy of the day.

Marian looked down in surprise, seeing how the hem line had quickly turn from a pale blue to a dark red. She made a small sound surprise but quickly composed herself. "Well," she said, taking Polly's hands in hers and giving her a special smile. "I think it was getting a little small for me anyway. And now the hem is completely ruined. But I suppose, that could be trimmed away and the gown could be saved and used for a much smaller person."

Polly's face lit up. "Really?" she squeaked. "Do you promise? Guy, make her promise!"

Guy laughed at her order. He placed a hand over his heart and assured her, "I make an oath to you that I swear you shall own that gown."

Polly was lost in her excitement as she danced around, swirling the wine puddles with her and creating an even larger mess. "Polly!" Marian said, laughing as she clutched at the girls wrists. "But first, you have to do something for me. And that is to get find some rags from Tuck. Do you think you can do that?"

Polly nodded her head vigorously.

Gisbourne was still laughing as he stretched out a hand to Marian, helping her up.

"What are you doing here?" Marian asked, still confused.

"Thought I would help this lot here."

"You came all the way to England?"

"Of course I would. And you know, I couldn't pass up a chance to see you again."

Robin clapped his hands together loudly, gaining everyone's attention. "Right. Don't we have a plan to go ahead with? Or something?" His voice was a little higher than normal.

Allen smiled snarkily. "Oh yes, Lord of Improvisation. You were planning on making everything up as you went along. But I suppose the one thing of use that you have sought to say was regarding a visits with this Servant Mistress about safe placements."

Everyone could tell that this was the last thing Robin wanted to do.

"Lilly is ready to go," Matthew said nervously. They all knew that one of them was going to have to make Robin leave and the rest all thanked the Lord that Matthew had stepped up.

Robin looked ready to debate further but Tuck also stepped in. "I trust you will be quick about this Robin. You would do well to be back here as quickly as you could. You know, for the French folk."

"Of course," he said with defeat.

He felt around his belt to note that he had misplaced his sword. This was a very odd event to occur for Robin, who considered his sword to be almost a complete extension of his arm. "Brilliant," he muttered but turned to the sound of a loud cough.

This cough came from John, who held up Robin's hilt. Robin ran over to thank him as John quietly told him, "A wise man once said; the road of life has many turns, but one must always look ahead to reach the end."

Robin took his sword with a look of confusion. "Which wise man said that?"

John grinned. "Me. Just now. It means, hurry up, focus and get these French folk far away from me."

Robin scoffed out a laugh. "Thanks Johnny."

"Anytime Rob."

Lilly popped up beside him. "Shall we?" she said with a smile.

Robin wished he could match her enthusiasm but suddenly slavery was the last thing on his mind. Lilly did not take long to notice this as they rode into inevitable silence. Robin was not exactly in a talkative mood. So they mounted in silence. Lilly looked a tad nervous when she saw the size of her mare. "They don't bite do they?" she asked.

"Not always," Robin said, enjoying the hurried step back she took.

Gingerly, she took a few tiny steps forward and slowly stroked the horses mussel. She appeared to like the roughness of the touch as she smiled. "What's his name?"

Robin groaned. "Does it really matter? Honestly, women and animals. I shall never understand any of it."

His words made Lilly laugh, an action that soothed her. And finally she found the courage to put a shaken foot in one stirrup before heaving herself up. She appeared surprised as she sat securely in the saddle. Her mouth was agape in delighted surprise at how safe she felt. This safety quickly disappeared once the horse began to slowly trot. From the way she reacted, one would have thought that she was riding at a fast canter.

And so they rode. Eventually Lilly settled. Or at least, Robin assumed she had as he noted that her fingers were no longer red from her fierce grip upon the reigns.

He also noticed how the once talkative Lilly was suddenly a lot more quiet. Fear could not possibly be a factor. He had not known her long but he knew that, when Lilly was silent, something was wrong. And somehow, he just knew that Gisbourne was definitely the cause. "Lilly?" he said, dripping in sweetness, "do you remember how I saved your life?"

"I do," she said simply, looking straight ahead.

"Well I think that is about time I called in a favour."

"Regarding?" she said with a yawn, pretending to not pay attention.

"You know full well what it is regarding. Marian and Gisbourne."

She squirmed about in her saddle. "Now why would you assume that I know something? You have a very inquisitive nature. I have always admired that about you. It's the very thing that makes you a good leader. Speaking of leading, shouldn't we hurry on?"

"Nice try," he said, "but you are not getting out of it that easily."

She took a deep breath. "Look Robin. I think this is between you and Marian. Maybe you should discuss it with her."

"Don't you think I want to?" he asked. "But she won't speak to me."

"Maybe there is good reason behind that," she muttered, instantly regretting it. He blew out a deep breath, knowing full well that she had just gotten herself into deep trouble.

Robin urged his horse forward and turned to block her offs. The result was two startled horses who began to buck slightly and one terrified Lilly who clung on for dear life. She had never fared well to horse riding. "What are you doing?" she stammered as she clasped onto her horses neck.

"Why would you say that?" he said, eyes narrowed.

Lilly sighed sadly. "Look Robin… gosh I hate being the one who has to say this. But I'm sure everyone is thinking it."

"Just say it," he said, daring her to continue.

She took a deep breath. "Robin, I know that you love her. And that was fine. But then things got complicated. And maybe… I'm sorry… But maybe love isn't enough anymore."

"And what s that supposed to mean exactly?" Robin asked, calmly enough. But Lilly knew that she was in dire need to watch her words.

"I'm saying that there are a lot of factors against the two of you right now. Her stubbornness for one, which we both know will never go away. But that is probably the least of your concerns. What if she is hurt again? Because of what you do? Things could have worked out a whole lot worse last time."

"She is fine."

"She could barely get out of bed for months Robin. Every physician told us that she would never be able to walk again."

Robin's face fell slightly. No one had told him this.

Lilly wanted nothing more than to stop talking. But he had to know. For the good of everyone. "Even she had become accustomed to the life of being crippled. I think she just wanted to give up.'

"But then Guy came along. And somehow, he helped her. She seemed her old self again."

"Why would he help her?" Robin asked.

Lilly raised an eyebrow. "I think we both know the answer to that."

Robin looked away, not wanting to hear anymore. Unfortunately, Lilly thought that it was time someone finally voiced things.

"Robin, I really am truly sorry about all of this. But this is just the way that fate worked out. You need to concentrate solely on your destiny. As soon as she is around, you just… well you lose your head. And she needs to think of herself, which yes I know, shouldn't be hard for her. But I have been her handmaiden for years. And I have never seen this side of her. Nowadays, you just seem to bring out the worst in each other. I suppose… it just wasn't meant to be. And besides, don't you think you are being a little selfish here?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well… didn't you leave her behind a year ago because you knew this life would never be safe for her. And now you express interest again when it suits you? What has changed?"

Robin steered his horse forward. "We have to get to Valarie," he said, "quickly. I want everyone safe long before sundown."

"Don't get me wrong, I think Valarie is a wonderful woman. But I thoroughly doubt that she will be willing to take on slaves with a price on their heads."

Robin looked to her with an emotionless gaze. "Well Lilly, you have been wrong before."

She made a point of riding in silence for the rest of the journey.


	14. Chapter 12

"Right," Allen said. "I am ready to be amazed by this marvellous plan."

"What are you implying there Allen?" Robin said, without paying any attention to his friend. He was checking the sharpness of his sword against his thumb. Everyone snapped into action at this. They all knew that this was a sign that Robin was preparing to move out.

"So what are we doing?" John asked.

"What do you think we're doing Johnny boy?" Robin asked with a smirk.

John looked a tad startled and did not quite know how to reply.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Robin said, treating the whole thing like a game, "S _tunned silence_ was not the answer. So the question goes to Much! What do you think we are going to do?"

Much made a few choking noises under pressure.

Allen rolled his eyes, thinking to put everyone out of their misery. "We are going to throw caution to the wind and attack the Sheriff's men somewhere to make a point to him. And you will threaten him and somehow things will work out?"

"Very good Allen!" he said, "that is in fact what we would _normally_ do."

" _Normally?"_

"Yes," Robin added, "because if you suspect we will do that, then the Sheriff will think the same."

Allen smiled slowly. "So as he and his men all wait in bulk in one location…"

"We shall sneak everyone around in minor groups that would easily be overlooked," Robin finished.

Allen considered his words. "I suppose that could work," I said slowly, not wishing to give out praise.

"True words of glory indeed," Robin said happily, seeing through the guise.

"But I suppose that you expect me to think of a cover story for each individual group and entrance routes don't you?" Allen said with a sense of foreboding.

"Well I can't be expected to do all of the work," Robin said with a grin.

"I come bearing apples!" Amelia called, breezing back into the church. She was followed by an enervated Luke who dragged forth a large wooden barrel.

"I'm fine. Really," Luke wheezed. His voice was barely audible.

Amelia was beaming as many a French person came politely up to her, using appropriate manners and thanking her with extreme enthusiasm. "Yes, yes. She is brilliant isn't she," Luke huffed, stretching out his arms in a series of deep clicks. "My back will never be the same again," he muttered.

"You know, you could all learn a little something from this lot," Amelia said pointedly to the nearest Merry Men.

"Yes, yes, we are rude bastards," Thomas said, sounding bored. "That is nothing new, love."

"Pass the apples over here!" John called from a distant pew.

He was greeted by Amelia's death glare. Now I have seen some sights in my time. But nothing could possibly terrify us more than that very glare. So John quickly changed his tune and added a "please?"

Amelia rolled her eyes and aimlessly tossed an apple in his direction. It fell short which was lucky as John's flailing arms would never have come close. "True skill there," Thomas said with a snicker. "Toss one over here!"

"Allow me," Lilly said with an evil smirk. She had long since surprised us with her impeccably strong arm. Within moments the apple was shooting toward Thomas with impeccable speed. He knew that all of his dignity was hanging upon that moment. With relief, both hands gripped around his target as he whopped in delight.

This minor event managed to fill in a small amount of the incredulous waiting time. Valarie had informed them of the moment in which the guards would be changing, which was our only opportunity. Until then, all they could do was wait. And oh how the time dragged. So Allen watched with slight amusement as the French continued to display grace and decency while the Merry Men called over rudely to demand their fruit. They also displayed a range of talents through this. Marian managed to gracefully catch her apple, one-handed with ease. Much managed to be struck in the head.

Robin ignored all of this _action_ as he pretended to be planning teams and covers for the plan. Instead he just stole glances toward Marian and Gisbourne to check up on them. One could near feel the anger floating from him. Leon surprised him by loudly placing his apple onto the pew in front of him. "Subtlety," he said with raised eyebrows, "ever heard of it?"

"I wasn't…" Robin said, beginning to defend himself but he could see that it would go to no avail.

"That is just how Robin looks when he thinks," Allen lied, half heartedly as he sat beside them. Robin gave him a thanking look.

"Well now I am convinced," Leon said with a chuckle. He sat two pews in front of them, leaving his apple resting on top. Robin glared at it as a cover to continue to sneak glances. "I know that you are still looking," Leon said in a sing song know it all voice. Quick as a wink, Robin had lifted his bow, nocked an arrow and sent it jarring into the apple, missing Leon's shoulder by an inch. All the while, I laughed quietly. "Was that really necessary?" Leon moaned, his voice going very high pitched.

"Apparently so," Robin said, finally smiling again.

It was then that Gisbourne made his first mistake. He had witnessed the whole event from a nearby pew. 'You should really bend your bow arm slightly," he said off handed manner. We all sucked in our breaths as the fool continued. "If your arm is more rounded, your aim will improve."

Robin slowly stood, rising himself to his full height. "Do you really think that I need archery advice? Do you know who I am?"

Gisbourne also rose to his full height. Unfortunately from Robin, this was a few inches taller. He ignored it. Gisbourne was still smiling with good intent, not quite realising the hole he was digging for himself. "So the mighty Robin Hood is unable to take criticism? Interesting."

Robin made a point of looking Gisbourne up and down and sneering slightly. "Especially from the likes of you."

On could tell how Gisbourne's smile was no longer true. Yet he still kept it on. "Well you know, there is always room for improvement."

Robin tilted his head. "I'm sorry, have you not heard of me?"

"Oh yes, I have heard of you," Gisbourne said. "Tales of you have reached France. The main tale would probably being the spring tournament from last year."

Robin's face turned stone hard. Allen let out a sputtered laugh and was met by a death glare. "I'm sorry," he sputtered, trying desperately to stop the laughter. But Gisbourne had just defeated Robin. And all of the others knew it. Most reacted as Allen had with muffled chuckles. The archery tournament was nothing out of the ordinary. Robin could never turn down an opportunity to show off and had attended in disguise. One of the Sheriff's guards shot an arrow toward Robin just as Robin was aiming his final shot. Robin always possessed amazing instincts and heard the twang. Dodging saved his life, but also sent his would be winning arrow askew. Naturally, the Sheriff spun the story a little differently. He flaunted the fact that the 'so-called _perfect'_ Robin Hood had failed in a plot and embarrassed himself publically.

Robin hated the memory, not allowing any of us to bring it up under threat of death. It was the one time that the mighty Robin Hood had publically lost at something and it still brought the Merry Men an abundance of joy to think upon it. So Gisbourne's word created quite the stir. "I was being shot at," Robin said simply, knowing that it made little difference.

"Of course you were," Gisbourne said with a small smirk. "But maybe if your arm was a little more rounded, you could have made the winning shot in time."

Allen snorted. Marian's eye positively sparkled. "Am I to understand that the mighty Robin Hood was defeated by a mere guard?" she said with delight.

"No!" Robin said defensively. "He just… Well…"

"So yes," Allen said under his breath.

"What do you know of archery anyway?" Robin said accusingly to Gisbourne. "Who are you to question me?"

Second big mistake. Gisbourne's smile broadened. "Excuse me," he said politely to Benny. "Could I bother you for your bow?"

"Be my guest," Benny said, looking far too excited. But then again, we all were. There was something in the air that told us that Robin was about to be challenged. And this was long over-due.

Gisbourne received the bow with thanks and studied it briefly, running his fingers down the brittle wood. He did not say anything for Benny's sake, but it was obvious not a very good bow. And Benny was such a short lad so therefore, his bow was made to match. Gisbourne was much taller. Robin smiled slightly, knowing that the odds were in his favour.

"What is my target then?" Gisbourne said, not letting the bow phase him in the slightest.

Robin tossed Allen his apple. "Set this up on the altar," he said.

"Yes, master," he said sarcastically but did as instructed and jogged to the far end of the Church. He placed the apple as far forward as he dared. It would not fair well for him if Robin thought he was helping the enemy.

He needn't have worried. Gisbourne smoothly raised his bow, levelling it easily. He made a point of rounding his left arm. For his time aiming, one could scarcely see a twitch form him. He became completely still as he focused on his target alone. And then his right hand released the arrow. There was a single whoosh sound as the arrow soared across the Church to split the apple perfectly through the middle. Even from his far vantage point, Allen was struck with the flowing juices. Applause ran wild as the French praised their hero and the Merry Men rejoiced someone teaching Robin a lesson.

"A lucky shot," Robin said, pushing the thought away.

Amelia pulled for a rag. "This is not what I had in mind when I laboured to bring you lot those apples."

" _You_ laboured?" Luke said incredulously.

"They are going to destroy the Church now aren't they?" Tuck said flatly but no one was listening.

"Set up another apple!" Robin called, drawing forth his own bow.

"Because this should definitely be our top priority," Allen muttered as he ran back to fetch the next target. Knowing whom he was dealing, Allen saw fit to snatch an additional few. He then thought better of it and took back the entire barrel, knowing that blood was about to be spilt.

"Make a little harder Allen," Robin called to me, thinking to impress. "I have no business making easy shots," he said pointedly.

Gisbourne put a hand to his heart. "I am ready to be astounded."

Allen looked to his surroundings. There was little more space to go further back. The front of the Church consisted of a large stained glass window, surrounded by a wooden frame. This frame jutted out slightly which allowed him to balance an apple upon it. Allen hoped this would appease Robin since the altar would most likely cover most of the target. Robin would have little more than an inch and his arrow would have to skim the altar without going off course. Robin knew this and concentrated completely. He too, shut off the rest of the world, seeing only the red of his apple. And once again, Allen felt the spurt of apple juice.

There was more applause. Even Marian seemed a tad impressed, though she tried to hide it. Things were as they should be. Robin had learnt a lesson but still won. This was ideal. If Robin had learnt nothing, he would have been intolerable with ego. If he had lost, he would have been intolerable with defiance.

But then Gisbourne spoke again. "Would you kindly throw one of those into the air?" he called down to me.

Allen pulled a face. Surely not. A moving target at such a distance. Interesting. Gisbourne proved him wrong by perfectly splitting the apple again. And for a brief moment, Robin looked worried. But then that moment ended. "Allen," he called down calmly, "do you have different coloured apples?"

Looking to the barrel, Allen called back, "Yes."

He ordered for one red and three green. "Throw them all at once."

"Oh for goodness sake," Marian muttered.

"Just you watch," Robin said to her with a wink. "I will hit the red."

"And we shall all wonder at the marvel that is your skill," she said sarcastically. But even she was slightly agape as I juggled the four apples in my hands and threw them to the heavens. The rest of us took a moment to search through the sunlight to find the red. And by that point, Robin had already split it.

"Please say that it is over," Leon said.

Gisbourne considered. "Add two extra apples," he called to me. "Two of mixed colour."

It took a moment to search the barrel for such colouring but eventually two were found. After a pause, they too were flung. And once more, the targeted apple split.

"We are never going to be done are we?" Leon said, to no one in particular.

Robin looked to Allen. "Same again. But I want two targets."

Benny dropped the goblet from which he had been drinking. "Oh Lord." Tuck greeted him with a look.

Finally, Gisbourne seemed concerned. Surely no one could make such a shot.

He obviously did not know Robin as the rest of them did. Robin flicked his fingers back and forth briefly to test their speed. Satisfied, he drew his first arrow. His quiver was ready with one final arrow. Benny's quiver was emptied, showing that Gisbourne had no more chances. All was riding on Robin's final targets.

"Ready?" Allen called down nervously.

Muttering a silent prayer, Allen threw forth the enormous bundle. Seven apples went flying into the air. Three green. Two multicoloured. Two completely red. Instantly, one was split but in the time it took for Robin to draw his second arrow, they had long since began their descent. Allen had throw askew and the fruit began to fall in all possible directions. To find the pure red apple would have been impossible. And yet, suddenly Allen felt a spraying of juice from atop his head. The red apple had fallen above him. And he felt a breeze atop my head. He had been wearing a brown cap, the very image of Robin's green article.

As they all looked to wooden frame, there was a universal gasp. Robin's arrow pinned both the apple and Allen's hat to the very edge of the window. One inch to the left would have cracked the window. One inch down would have hit Allen. It had to be said; Robin was good.

"You may now close your mouths and praise me," Robin said happily.

Gisbourne slowly lowered his bow. "Touché," he said simply.


	15. Chapter 15

"You know, I really am too clever," the Sheriff said thoughtfully to the captain of his guard as they strode the halls.

The Captain seemed unsure of how to answer. He was unsure if he was meant to answer at all. "Of course Milord," he said simply.

The Sheriff seemed slightly put out. "Well aren't you going to ask me why?" he said accusingly.

The Captain held back his groan. "And why is that Sire?" he said after a pause.

"Glad you asked!" the Sheriff said with a flourish. "Well that is a difficult question to answer. After all, there are so many options. For I am clever for so many different reasons. But today, we shall focus on today. And today, I have taken something small and meaningless and created a situation from which I cannot lose."

His gloating was put on hold as he saw Gisbourne approaching him. "Any sign of them?"

"Not yet," Gisbourne said, feigning a look of disappointment. "But I assure you, Hood told me his plan. The fool trusts me."

The Sheriff smiled in approval. "I love it. Hood will bring them all to the North entrance and will encounter the lovely surprise of fifty of my best men. However did you manage it Gisbourne?"

"I have a friend on the inside who I knew would vouch for me."

The Sheriff groaned. "And I suppose that you are about to beg me to allow this friend to live."

"Only if it pleases you Milord. Your judgment is law after all."

The Sheriff stopped, looking Gisbourne up and down. "You know, I think I like you Gisbourne. You would betray your own friends to see my plans succeed. And you have a way with my enemies."

Gisbourne bowed his head modestly. "I only wish to do my duty."

The Sheriff strode about as he thought aloud. "And you have no lands to speak?"

"No Sire," Gisbourne said with a small cough.

"Minimal funds?"

"Times have been hard."

With a swift turn, the Sheriff surprised Gisbourne by saying, "come and work for me."

Gisbourne widened his eyes slightly. "I'm sorry? What?"

"Come and live in Nottingham. I could give you lands. Estates. You just need to prove yourself to me."

Before Gisbourne could reply, there was a crash. "Robin Hood!" the Sheriff bellowed, shoving both the Captain and Gisbourne forward. The Captain ran forward to investigate but came back to inform that them a guard had dropped a crate whilst unloading supplies.

"Of course," the Sheriff said, straightening his tunic. The gold thread shone from the light from the staffs as he paced about the main entrance way. He sat down upon an ornate stone bench. "I have no reason to worry," he said with a laugh. "My plan is flawless. Perfect even. There is no way Hood could ever get past me."

Gisbourne and the Guard would have listened, but there attention was focused elsewhere. For at that exact moment, two servants entered through one of the left archers, sweeping away the dirt, one of them happened to be Allen. The other was one of his favourite French men. They both kept their heads down, pretending to sweep their way across the courtyard. They were dressed in the usual garb of servants with mud and dirt smeared all over their faces and clothes. As long as he kept his head down, and his partner kept silent, Allen would never be discovered.

The Sheriff was a tad upset at their mere presence. "Do that later!" he yelled. "Get back to your quarters."

Allen tried his hardest to keep the smile from his face, having witnessed the Sheriff had just ordered them to the very place from which he was trying desperately to keep them from. So instead, they kept their heads down, bowed slightly and quickly walked away. Allen dared a small wink to Gisbourne as he passed.

"Now where was I?" the Sheriff said, more to himself than those present. Gisbourne and the Captain were far more interested in the weeping widows who wandered past. There were five in total, all dressed in rags. The few words that escaped past the sobs spoke of an accident and small words like that. Amelia played her part well and seemed to be enjoying being a little more practical in her ways of helping the Merry Men. The shortest widow looked a tad less enthusiastic. Much had groaned continuously about having to play a female. But they had insisted. And not just because we enjoyed seeing him uncomfortable. Robin also insisted on an able-bodied Merry Man being in every group where possible.

The trick worked like a charm. The Sheriff rolled his eyes at the sight. "I detest widows," he moaned. "That damn moaning. Get rid of them."

The same went for the young lovers who dashed past next. They pretended to be startled by the sight of the Sheriff and ran off. Matthew had been a tad uncomfortable at playing such a role. But a fair few females insisted and then fought over who would accompany him.

And still the Sheriff continued on his mad boast ignoring the sick and injured who limped past. And so he ignored the inquisitive village folk seeking Noble council. And the fistfight that somehow managed to break out where he was standing. And that was just our first few ideas. For each Merry Man would drop off their intended, sneak out of a small trap door, run around the castle wall and select a new group. Eventually they ran out of ideas and began to repeat the old ones. The Sheriff was none the wiser.

Not all were as blind as the Sheriff. But Gisbourne was a part of the plan. The main concern was the Captain of the Guard. Gisbourne watched him closely out of the corner of his eye, waiting for a sign. But the Guard said nothing. His face remained blank. Some considered him dimwitted. But Allen saw a look in his eyes. Something that made him trust him. Somehow, Allen just knew that he was on our side.

"We could actually do this!" Allen said in astonishment as he made my way back successfully once more. Only Simon was left.

"You sound surprised," Robin said, sounding hurt.

"Well honestly I am. It is a plan that you thought up."

Benny returned shortly after me. "Shall I take Simon? We haven't been lowly servants in a while."

"No I will handle this one," Robin said, clapping Simon on the back. "I hate just sitting around."

"You were hardly just sitting around," Benny said. "You were guarding everyone in case they were discovered."

"Yes well, it got a tad tiresome. So time to go. Come on Simon."

Simon was all too happy to allow Robin to accompany him. After all, most would feel safest under the protection of Robin Hood himself. "And if they recognise you?" Allen asked Robin in a hushed voice.

His smug laughter was the only response.

.

.

.

Polly danced about the corridor, most likely imagining herself in Marian's 'ruined' gown. Marian looked at her with an odd look upon her face. She felt a strong feeling of wistfulness. For it seemed so long since she could dance about with the joy of being a child.

"Polly," Marian said, trying her best to sound stern. "You are supposed to be my Lady's Maid. Do you really think that would entail dancing around like a fool?"

The girl just giggled. "Unbelievable," Marian said with what was intended to be a sign. The action turned into a laugh. "Do you ever worry about anything?"

"Why should I worry?" Polly said absentmindedly, pulling at the snags on her collar.

"Well you have had quite the day today."

"Yes and wasn't it wonderful?" Polly said, flinging her arms back in happiness.

"The child is well and truly mad," Marian said to herself in wonderment.

Eventually, Polly was forced to stop for breath. "I know I shouldn't say this, but I have had so much fun!" Polly said as she slumped down on the floor. "And my, Robin Hood is just as handsome as they say."

Marian snorted. Polly's wide eyes fixated upon her. "Don't you think so?"

Marian let out a nervous laugh as her eyes darted about. "Polly you are much to young to understand…"

"Oh I understand plenty," Polly said with a smirk. "You were far too busy watching Guy to even notice Robin."

"Well I-" Marian tried to say but could not quite find the words. "Who could have possibly raised you to be so forward child?"

Finally Polly showed the slightest hint of sadness. "My parents died long ago."

Marian slowly knelt down beside her. "I am so sorry," she said, resisting the urge to kick herself.

Polly just shrugged. "Oh well. 'Twas a long time ago."

But Marian knew that the child was lying. There was far too much sadness there.

It was then that they heard the cry. That horrid shriek of a man dying.

"Wait here," Marian said firmly, all joking aside. Her face was a mask of seriousness that almost stunned Polly.

"But I'm scared," she whimpered.

Marian clasped both the hands of the girl. "Today I have seen many people. Outlaws and slaves. All showed great strength. But none like you. Now I need you to wait here. Be completely silent. I will come back for you."

Polly nodded her head, blinking back tears.

Marian rose quickly, patting the hidden pocket in her skirts. One dagger was sheathed and ready. It was not much, but it would do. She did not wish to frighten Polly further so she made an effort of calmly walking down the corridor until there was a turn. From there, she ran silently, her feet barely hitting the ground. Her curls feel free from the pins in her haste. There was just something about that scream. Something that made her blood run cold.

She found a scene of complete chaos and confusion. The outlaws had been discovered. The plan had taken a little longer than expected and the Guard's had changed their positioning. Bad timing was the main factor. A large clump of guards strode past just as Simon stumbled backward, knocking over a large sculpture and making a spectacle of himself. When they had stopped to inspect him, he had not know enough English to convince them of his innocence. So the approached him, swords at the ready. "Well aren't you glad I was here now?" Robin said, drawing back his hood and puling forth his own sword. Benny and Allen were not far behind as we had followed in secret, thinking that something was due to go wrong. But even with the extra men present, they were still horribly outnumbered. The ruckus we made managed to create quite the stir however. The noise of it all brought Matthew and Leon to the throng. It also, unfortunately, brought forth the Sheriff and Gisbourne. Gisbourne was forced to fight against them to keep up appearance. And sadly, he was just as talented with a sword as he was with a bow. He held back as much as he dared but seemingly he wished to prove himself to the Sheriff. Simon had grasped at a sword of a fallen guard and managed to wave it about, knocking back a few guards rather impressively. But he still lacked the skill and training.

Robin heard the words all too clearly as the Sheriff muttered them. "Kill him." Without a word, a guard strode silently behind Simon and plunged his sword deep into his side.

A guard leapt in front of Robin, drawing his attention away. But he still heard the screams. When finally he could look again, he saw Gisbourne breaking rank to drag Simon's limp body away from the fighting and down a small hidden hallway.

There were too many guards and it was clear that the Merry Men were struggling. The Sheriff's smirk could no have been wider. "I really am too clever," he said with delight.

Finally the remaining Merry Men arrived, including, to Allen's surprise, Will and Luke. "Where the hell have you been?" Allen roared.

"Honestly," Luke said, "we disappear for one day and this happens. Can we not trust you with anything?"

The numbers began to tread more in their favour. The added Merry Men joined the fight with a fresh set of eyes and were still refreshed from a day of rest whilst the guard began to tire. Needless to say, the Sheriff no longer looked smug.

With one final swing, Robin knocked back his final guard. His head snapped around to search for his next target but there were no more. The ratios were definitely in their favour and he found himself with a brief moment of rest. "What happened to Simon?"

Allen pointed as he ran. "Gisbourne pulled him back here."

The small corridor was extremely small so Allen followed behind Robin. There was just one small side-room, covered by a curtain. From there, they could hear voices. They spoke in hushed tones but Allen could still hear one phrase before we reached them. It was Simon who spoke, saying, "Je veux ce qui a été promis."

Before Allen had time to question, Robin had pulled back the curtain. There we saw Gisbourne knelt beside Simon. But Simon was worse off than they could have ever imagined. When Robin saw him being carried away, he saw only a wound to the side. When that curtain was gone, it was difficult to see where the blood originally came from for it coated him so.

Simon looked to us with fear in his eyes. "Please," he begged, panting from the effort. And then, in broken English he managed to say on line. "It… was… him…" And he pointed a shaking finger at Gisbourne. His hand only rose a few inches before it became limp. He convulsed, making a horrid gurgling sound as he choked upon the blood drooling from his lips. Finally, his whole bodied shuddered one final time and then was still.

Robin drew his sword. The sound of the metal created a clear ringing sound into the silence. And he pointed it toward Gisbourne. "What did you do?" he said in a dark voice.

Gisbourne looked up to them, blinking back tears. His voice stammered and only sounds came out. "He … I …"

Robin held back his sword as he strode forward and used his spare hand to yank Gisbourne up by his collar. " _What did you do_?" Robin said again, this time yelling.

"Nothing!" Gisbourne cried. "He said that to save me!"

Robin's sword was not at Gisbourne's throat and his eyes were full of hatred.

"Robin!" Marian yelled, rushing forward to pull him back. It took all of her strength as Robin simply jerked his shoulders back to try to throw her off. But she pulled back harder and eventually he stumbled back. Gisbourne simply slid down to the wall to sit limply down.

"He killed Simon!" Robin said, trying to get around Marian. She continued to doge back and forth to not allow past. "Look at him!" she yelled, gesturing to Gisbourne. The man seemed a mere shadow of himself. Completely lost. "Do you really think him capable of such a thing?"

"I think him capable of lying and putting on a good show!" Robin snarled, shoving Marian out of the way. She stumbled back and Allen caught her.

"Robin, let him explain," Allen said, my voice sounding more like a croak.

Gisbourne stared into nothingness. "He was dying and he knew it," he whispered. "So he wanted me to say that I assisted in his death. He knew that I needed the Sheriff's favour."

"You align yourself with our enemy then!" Robin yelled.

"Which is hardly a crime punishable by your blade!" Marian said.

"But he is lying!" Robin added, still yelling.

The other Merry Men began to trickle in. The braver ones stood close, waiting for defining orders. Some stayed outside. "I saw Simon when Gisbourne was being pulled away," Allen said quietly. "His wounds weren't as dire as they are now."

"Can you be sure?" Lilly asked, kneeling down beside Gisbourne. "There was so much occurring at once. Perhaps you were mistaken."

"So now Allen is a liar?" Robin said, his fury turned toward Lilly.

Lilly looked to him, chin held high. "I think you are fast to condemn Robin. And I shall not stand for it."

She stood in front of Gisbourne and Marian joined her. "More guards could be along any moment," Lilly said sternly. "I suggest we move on."

Robin remained staunch. "But he-"

"Move on, Robin!" Marian yelled.

It took a moment but finally he sheathed his sword. "Come on," he said to us quietly. "We head back to camp."

Once he turned, Allen saw Lilly breath out a sigh of relief. She finally let go of all of the fear she had been holding back. Marian touched her arm appreciatively and Lilly smiled back.

A hand touched Allen's shoulder, startling him. "Come on," Leon said kindly. "We best be heading back."

.

.

.

Allen and Leon walked side by side without speaking and eventually Leon noted how Allen muttered beneath his breath. "What are you thinking?" he asked curiously.

"Nothing," Allen said, not wanting to explain myself.

Leon slowed his walk, ensuring that they were a fair distance behind the last Merry Man. "Now you listen here," he said, using a strangely authoritative tone. It certainly made Allen snap to attention. "We have been friends since we were children. So I know when something is weighing upon you. And seemingly it is something that you feel unable to share with either Robin or myself. And that worries me, more than you know. So you better start talking!"

Allen slumped his shoulders and finally explained. "I heard Simon say something to Gisbourne before Robin and I arrived."

Leon looked concerned. "What was it?"

Allen sighed. "It was in French. But I recognised a few of the words. I think it was something about a promise."

"A promise?" Much said, crinkling his nose slightly. "Maybe that was the promise. That Simon would blame Gisbourne so that he would gain favour?"

"That would make sense if it was the Sheriff who had walked through those doors. But Simon knew it was us. He looked right at Robin!"

Leon nodded. "And? What else?"

"What else?"

"What else has been bothering you? Surely there is more."

And like a tidal wave, it all came crashing forward. In hushed tones, Allen told Leon everything he knew. About the mysterious stranger with the broach and how that same symbol was seen on Roger and Piers and about Polly's true patronage.

Leon listened silently, never interjecting or causing a disturbance. At any given moment, Allen expected him to laugh or strike him for lying. When he finished his tale, Allen waited to be told about his madness. But the words never came. In fact, he spoke the words that Allen never expected to hear. "I think you're right."

It startled Allen so, that he was forced to a halt. "Come again?" he stuttered.

"I believe there is something going on. Something larger than all of us. And we need to find out what it is."

"What do you think I've been doing?" Allen asked, incredulously.

"You have been sitting ins suspicious, too nervous to do any real work."

"Well alright then, what do you propose we do?"

Once more, Allen was not suspecting a genuine answer. But Leon simply smiled. "Just find a way to convince Robin that we need to visit Derby. I will handle the rest."


	16. Chapter 16

Within a week, Gisbourne had officially taken up residency in Nottingham castle, under the patronage of the Sheriff. It would seem that the Sheriff had a right hand man. And a clever one at that.

Robin was clearly not overjoyed with the news. But Allen noted that Marian was always rather vague on the subject. She became awfully nervous whenever Allen brought up Nottingham's newest arrival. He tried to visit her as much as possible when he found himself near the castle. It had been a long year and he had missed his friend. It was also common knowledge that she grew bored on her lonesome and this often led to trouble. Leon always accompanied him whilst Robin was clearly not invited. This made for perfect cover to discuss their forthcoming plans.

Robin found other ways to amuse himself. Allen was initially surprised when he saw their new and improved wanted posters. Robin had seemingly seen fit to run around all of Nottingham with an inkwell, true to his word. It seemed that the town had found itself two new outlaws; The Lord of Improvisation and Lord of Sarcasm.

But Allen was simply glad for the distraction, as menial as it seemed.

Robin had been none too pleased with the idea of Allen and Leon travelling to Derby by themselves. He was fine with the idea of dropping off spoils to the people of the town but wished for more outlaws to go. Leon had constantly asserted that they would run into new trouble. He knew the lands like the back of his hand. And the new Lord who had been sent to manage his estates was a portly old buffoon. Eventually Robin had swayed but hardly willingly.

Leon refused to tell Allen of his plans, claiming that he did no wish for his friend to be let down if things did not go according to plan. But Allen had faith in his friend.

The pair had been granted horses from a trusted source in Nottingham with the promise that they would be returned post haste. And finally they were off.

"Just like old times, huh?" Allen said, settling his saddle.

Leon pushed back a lock of hair. For the first time in his life, his hair had been allowed to grow wild. "Hardly. It feels odd, being without Robin or Marian."

Allen snickered. "Yes, but isn't it so much more peaceful?"

That was rather easy to agree to. "Do you think they will ever sort themselves out?" Leon asked, thoughtfully. "Things between the two of them have grown rather hectic."

Snorting, Allen said, "are you kidding? Leon, we've known they throughout their entire relationship! When have things ever been calm?"

"'I suppose so."

"You should know better than anyone. Do you remember when Robin found out you were betrothed to Marian?" Allen laughed, ignoring the discomfort upon his friends face. "What was it he called you? My memory fails me … Wasn't it…"

"Shit stabbing sod," Leon said calmly.

"Yes!" Allen said, laughing away, failing to notice the other mans silence. Finally he did note the other man's unenthusiasm. "I suppose he did go a bit far. Why was he raging on about you using his struggles to sort your own? I mean, yeah it was really rough that they couldn't get married then. But I understand where you were coming from too. If she had to get married, surely it would be better to be with someone who she knows doesn't expect to love him."

Leon did laugh at that, although it was more of a snarky action. "More than you know old friend."

Leon was quick to turn the subject to broader horizons and Allen hardly minded. Allen could always look back on those days with both ranges of emotions. He enjoyed the four of them spending those months together in blissful ignorance. Allen felt helpful as the cover-up for Robin and Marian to run off and be together. But reality set in eventually and oddly enough it had been Amelia who had banished Robin with talk of informing her Lord Master about everything her mistress had been lying about. That action had taken months to forgive. It was only when situations resolved and Robin was granted his lands that Marian would acknowledge Amelia's presence once more. To look at them now, it was ridiculous to Allen to think of their falling out.

He had always thought Leon rather clever for that solution. It irked him a little to think that he had not thought of it first, although he was far too afraid of Robin to propose it. But surely it made sense for Leon and Marian to continue their friendship under a new title. If they were to marry anyway, surely it was better to face the rest of ones life with a friend over the alternative. He should have guessed that Robin would feel slightly differently when it was the woman he loved in question.

But once again, actions had resolved and the fight was if it never occurred. But Allen finally saw how his words had cut at Leon and he knew well to avoid mentioning them again in the future.

Derby was the same as Allen remember it. He had spent almost seven years of his childhood residing there. It was in those walls that Wilfred had trained himself and Robin as squires. That memory caused a pang in him as he thought of Wilfred. They may not have been as close as the bond between Robin and Wilfred, but Allen still struggled to recall the good times they had spent. There was also a fresh wave of anger as he thought upon the murder. Leon looked back at him, reassuringly. He said nothing and Allen was glad for it. He just wanted to forget about things.

"So where are we headed?" Allen asked, seeing Leon slowing his horse.

"Well first, we lose the horses," Leon said as he dismounted. "I hardly doubt that I have much sway in the stables nowadays so we best just tether them in a glade and pray they don't get away."

"And then?"

"Just follow my lead."

Allen had not only spent his childhood in that castle. He had also visited constantly in the following years. But he quickly found himself stumbling about, lost in the corridors. Luckily for him, Leon led on. They began at the North side. Fallen away bricks made for easy climbing over the wall. Once they were on the grounds, a tad more stealth was required. Derby castle had never been vast in size so it had always surprised Allen how many guards were hired to patrol the grounds.

Leon held a finger to his lips, watching a pair of guards who were no more than a few feet from the tree from which they hid behind. But they faced away form them, marching off in the opposing direction. Leon changed fingers, holding up his thumb and jerking it in the direction of a small archway. They climbed over and found themselves in the first corridor. They quickly sneaked down, turning first left and then right. They were lucky enough to meet no guards upon the way. Finally they came to a door. Allen tried to twist the handle but found it to be locked. Leon simply chuckled beneath his breath and pushed his foot along the bottom hinge. The door clicked and slowly swung open. "Yes well, no need to show off," Allen whispered, snarkily.

They now faced a long drawing room, simply furnished. A thick layer of dust covered everything, showing the disuse of the room. Confirming this, Allen noted, "I've never been in here before."

Leon walked forward. "That is hardly a coincidence." He approached the old fireplace. It was a simple structure, ordinary clay bricks lining the sides. Leon reached up and fumbled about until he retrieved a small wooden box.

"So, I'm supposing this box to be important, which raises the question; why do you think it logical to hide a wooden box in a fireplace? What if someone lit a fire?"

"No one uses this room Allen," Leon sighed, fiddling with three different locks. There were odd little mechanism to turns and Leon turned them all to opposing directions. "We have three other drawing rooms, all far superior. And besides, no one but my Father and myself knew how to open that door. Other simply think it has jammed shut with age and find no need to stress further than that. When Father died last year, I became the only one on the estate to know."

"Oh I do so enjoy this suspense," Allen sarcastically whined.

The box clicked open and Leon pulled forth a single brass key. "Ever wonder why Derby was so superior to Barnsdale?"

Allen groaned, remembering this game from his youth. "I recall you giving me a full list as a child. Are we really going to play, 'the reasons my land is better than yours?' Oh all right. It is vaster. There are more inhabitants in the surroundings villages that you control. Your castle is bigger. The goddamed bricks are a better colour, _I don't know! Just tell me!"_

"Really, Allen?" Leon said with a smirk. "That was the talk of children. But, yes those things were true for your puny castle. But think in the grander scale. You know that these lands were always of upmost importance to King Richard. Why else were we so well taken care of. But why could that be? Look around, this can barely be called a castle!"

Allen rubbed at his temple. "Can you just skip with the suspense and tell me why we are here?"

Leon's eyes sparkled. "I'll show you."

He walked a few steps, further back into the room. He stood beside a large, moth eaten rug and kicked it away. Beneath it was a trap door. The key in Leon's hand opened it.

Looking down, Allen could see a dark stairway.

"We stand above an archive. Every documented family tree has been stored here, back in the reign of King Henry the Second. He wanted to keep them somewhere that his enemies would not think to invade. So he built this castle atop them."

"Wow, exciting," Allen mumbled with a complete lack of enthusiasm. "You lived above family trees. That's great Leon."

Leon fixed with a dark look. "If you are going to be like that, we can go back to Sherwood now. But down here you can see all of the major households for almost all of Britain. They were updated regularly on a secret basis."

"Fascinating."

"It should be. Or did it not occur to you that Roger Darnell's family tree could be down there?"

Allen's ears perked up slightly. "Well, what would that get us?" he asked, not wanted to admit he had been wrong in his lack of excitement.

"Polly said that her family was very secretive. There was always something going on, strange people coming and going. So we need to know everything we can about Roger and also, about the woman he was married to."

Allen hated to admit it, but Leon as right.

They descended the stairway in near darkness. Leon had strongly insisted that they use only one small candle. Allen groaned as he went on and on about the consequences of flames against the old parchment and fumbled his way down. He had allowed Leon to hold the candle, because deep down, he knew that his friend was right. Fire in such a place was dangerous, and he did want that kind of responsibility.

The smell that greeted them was oddly comforting to Allen. He had always found comfort in the smell of parchment. And the small candle illuminated the masses of shelves circulating before them. Allen muttered in awe as he turned slowly. Scrolls continued on as far as the eye could see. "I cannot believe that you managed to keep this a secret from us," Allen said in wonder.

"I felt honoured knowing about it, I suppose. Like I was special"

"Yes, yes, you had a sizeable ego," Allen said, brushing it aside. But he was still secretly impressed. "So how will we find Darnell?"

As a means of answer, Leon walked off. "I guess that way," Allen muttered, following along.

It was difficult to measure time underground. But Allen could have sworn that the entire day had passed before Leon muttered triumphantly, pulling forth a scroll. Allen made an odd choking sound of relief, rubbing at his nose once more and sneezing away dust.

Leon scurried down the ladder he had been climbing, rushing over to a nearby table to roll the scroll flat. "No, I take it back," he said. "This is Darnot."

"Can we save the cheering for actual success?" Allen groaned. "You've gone too far if that is Darnot. Will you bloody well use a candle?"

"Well it's close, though. You've got to admit," Leon muttered as he climbed the ladder.

"Yes, because 'close' is what I really want to hear after hours of standing here in the dust!"

Allen heard occasional words that he struggled to make out. But a fair few were clearly rude.

But Leon's second cheer proved to be far more successful. This time he confirmed that the name atop the parchment was Darnell. Allen hurried over to paw over the massive chart. The beginning surprised him. "They used to be Lords! It was a few generations ago but still! You'd think he would mention it! Can you believe it? Of Doncastor too. I just know that he lived there."

"Probably because that didn't seem to last long," Leon said, pointing to the words. "1067 their lands were taken away. Doesn't say why."

Allen looked closer, seeking Roger's name. "Not a lot of good luck in this family, is there? They all seem to die young."

Leon furrowed his brow, reading the dates and making a sound of agreement. Rather than scouring for Roger's name, he still read the words above the tree. "Says here that quite a few of them died fighting against the King. Can't be good."

"Found him!" Allen said in triumph. "Ha! He's aged well. Wouldn't have thought him to be thirty-three. And he …"

Allen's voice trailed away. "What? What is it?" Leon asked, urgently.

Allen pointed a finger. "Remember the name on the broach? Godwinson? Well look at that."

Both men looked at the names surrounding Roger. They saw two children. Polly and a younger brother, Wrenne. But the name of Roger's wife was what astounded them. She was listed as Belinda Darnell. But a small side note added, nee Godwinson.


	17. Chapter 17

"I cannot believe that Godwinson is a family name!" Allen exclaimed, probably for the twentieth time that night. Leon had lost count a long time ago. It had been an entire week since they had entered the archive and still Allen found a way to bring it up in almost constantly. This had almost gotten him in quite a bit of trouble as he tended to be a bit loud with his strange bursts of thought. Much had nearly jumped from his skin in fight on one occasion. But two things were constantly flitting through Allen's mind. First and foremost, his stupidity at not noting the obvious name. And secondly, the frustration that, despite how hard they looked, there had not been a family tree for a Godwinson family. A strong part of Allen suspected that it had been taken and Leon agreed with him. But there was nothing further they could do. Eventually, they were forced out of the archive, returning everything to its rightful place and returning to Sherwood. But not before Allen had been bored to tears, waiting for Leon to finish visiting his endless line of friends that lived amongst the villages of Derby.

"Yes Allen, you've said," Leon groaned. He had a thumping head ache and was uncomfortably hot despite the cool month of April. All of this combined made his far from being in the mood to listen to his friend's excitable babble.

The environment hardly helped. They were sat in the Locksley tavern, a personal favourite of Thomas. Allen knew that they were bound to end up there when he heard that the three of them were grouped together to drop off spoils at Locksley late one night. Thomas was off at the bar, chatting away to his friend Martha. When you spend enough time in one establishment, you are bound to befriend the staff. And Thomas had spent over ten years of his life in his beloved tavern. Martha had become one of his eldest friends. She was a busty with bright red hair piled high atop her head. She was also very feisty, which helped in her line of work. She was loud too. Allen could hear her gossiping from their distant table.

Thomas finally returned, happily chugged back from his tankard. Naturally, he had forgotten a pitcher for his friends which Martha happily carried over. "Alright loves?" she said, sliding a tankard across to Allen. "How's life treating you?"

Allen shrugged. "Life is life. But you know how England is."

"A bloody shambles?" she said, grinning.

"Exactly. Good is bad, bad is good. It's madness."

She whistled. "Best say your prayers then, love."

Now that Thomas had returned, Allen knew that a conversation change was in order. But the door crashed open and Robin came running in. The three of them looked incredibly guilty, knowing that they were expected back at camp. But Robin was not worried about that.

The tavern was extremely loud so he gestured to the door, indicating that they needed to leave. Each man could see that something was wrong.

The cold night air hit them instantly but they barely noticed due to their worry. "Did you notice anything peculiar about Derby when you were there last week?" Robin asked. Both Leon and Allen shook their heads.

Robin's eyes conveyed his concern. "Leon, I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you this. But it appears that a pestilence has broken out. So far it has been confined to Derby. No one is allowed to leave."

Leon was stunned. "But … We were just there! And everyone was fine!"

Robin sighed. "I've already talked to Pete. He has been informed all about it so he can recognise symptoms in case it comes here. From what I gather it happens very quickly. Once people catch it, they only have a few days."

Leon blinked at a rapid pace. "Well how many have died?"

Robin hesitated. "Yesterday it was sixty. But the numbers are raising daily."

"We need to go. Now. They need aid and any help we can give!"

Thomas looked extremely hesitant. "How contagious is it?"

Before anyone could react, Leon had clutched a fistful of Thomas' tunic and shoved him back. " _People are dying, you filth_!" he yelled. "Those are my friends! People I have known my whole life! But you stay here is you are scared!"

"Leon!" Robin yelled, pulling him back. "Thomas' concerns are well warranted. It is highly contagious. So I don't want all the Merry Men going! You and me will collect what we can and go to them. Everyone has cut off trade so they need food."

"And we can find a cure?" Leon asked desperately. "Ivo is one of the best physicians I have ever encountered. He cured me of the pox when I was a small child when all others thought I would die. If anyone can stop this, he can!"

Robin sadly shook his head. "Ivo was one of the first to be taken by the plague."

Leon stumbled back, leaning against the wall. "He was my friend," he mumbled.

Allen patted him gently on the shoulder. "I remember him. He devoted his life to studying medicine. And I also remember that he wrote everything down. So I'll come with you, read everything he wrote and surely there will be something there!"

The look on Thomas' face clearly implied that he thought them all mad. "Go back to camp, inform the others where we went. We will gather supplies at Nottingham and make our way there as soon as we can."

Thomas still looked doubtful. But in this new state, Thomas found that he feared Leon. And to say something now would mean to face his wrath.

"Best say your prayers then, love," he muttered, mimicking Martha's earlier words.

Leon barely heard him. Determination was already leading him away.

.

.

.

Allen groaned, rubbing at his eyes. He looked to the window, seeing streaks of red n the sky. Morning was fast approaching. Another night had been wasted. And so dawned the day, marking the third day since they had once more arrived in Derby.

So much had been accomplished but in the same way, nothing had.

The first step had been too remove all of the deceased physicians works from his hut. Allen would not dare work in the same residence. Best to take the information to a clean location. He remained in a secluded room in the castle, pouring over different readings.

Robin and Leon had set about gathering the sick, relocating them all to one location. Sadly, the number had grown. Fifty people were immediately moved to the castle. The Lord in residence had put up a minor protest but Robin was quick to put him in his place. It helped their case when the Lord began to show signs of a rash. He was dead before sundown. That was a disturbingly fast case. Most others lasted around two days. But Robin had still witnessed thirty deaths since their arrival.

Luke had followed them, arriving a few hours after them. And to Robin's dismay, Marian had joined him. Naturally, no words would out stubborn her and she had demanded that she remain and help. The thought terrified Robin but there were multiple other issues for him to worry about.

Luke did not fear the plague as he finally put his physician skills to skill. Pete would have been proud if he could see how his young student was excelling. The first thing Luke did was to ensure that the Merry Men and all other volunteers were well equipped against the plague. They took draughts and breathed in from certain herbs. He also insisted that they constantly keep as much of their bodies covered as possible. This seemed to do well. Three days had passed and none of them showed any signs. And they had been presented with a plentiful amount of opportunities to catch the plague.

A knock on the door startled Allen away from his thoughts. A man he roughly recognised brought him a bowl of stew. He remembered the mans name to be Michael. He was one of the few they had met who volunteered to come care for the sick. He was a handsome man, although his hair was an odd mob of small dark curls that would have amused Allen under different circumstances.

"Thank you," he mumbled, looking back down to his reading.

Michael refused to leave, pushing the bowl further. "You need to eat."

Allen looked up. "I have slightly more pressing matters."

"Plague thrives on weakness. You need to keep your strength up."

Sighing, Allen pulled the bowl toward him. He quickly dropped the negative attitude when he realised the kindness that the men was showing him. "So why did you choose to stay and help?" Allen asked. "Do you have family that are ill?"

Michael shook his head. "I'm not even from here, actually," he admitted. "I'm a minstrel. I'd show you if I had me lute. I as just passing through and got caught in the madness."

Allen knew full well that no one was allowed to leave. Shortly after their arrival, the Sheriff had sent over guards who waited upon each possible entrance to the town. No one was allowed to leave. Still, Allen respected the man for not hiding away as most had done. "But why? Why did you choose to remain where we quarantine all of the dying?"

Michael just shrugged. "Seemed the right thing to do."

"Any luck?" Robin called from the doorframe.

"What do you think?" Allen replied.

Michael smiled and left the room.

"I like that one," Robin said, jerking a thumb to the mans direction.

"Well let's work on keeping him alive then shall we?" Allen said, turning back to his work. "How's Leon?"

"How do you think?" Robin said, sinking into a nearby chair. "He has been running around for days, checking that we have officially confined the sickness."

"And have we?"

Robin managed a genuine smile. "Seems that way. But what are we going to do? Ten more died since last night. Sixty are getting worse by the minute."

Robin stopped when he heard his name being bellowed. Footsteps followed and Leon quickly ran through the doorframe. "Sheriff's men are here. They finally braved the town."

"What are they going to do? Arrest us?" Robin said with a snort.

"A villager spoke to them. Tried to get out by announcing that we had successfully quarantined the sickness. So the Sheriff sent his men to confirm. They want to speak to you."

"I can't say that the feeling is mutual."

"There's more. Gisbourne is leading them."

Robin's face quickly darkened. "Well go one then! Lead me to them."

.

.

.

Robin left the castles entrance without holding his sword. But felt assured that the blade was firmly attached to his hip. Always within reach. He did not trust the Sheriff, especially in situations such as this, mainly because he was unsure of what the Sheriff could possibly want.

He finally saw Gisbourne, swamped by six guards. Robin had expected more. But surely they were not here to arrest him. Still, the whole thing could be a trap so he kept his distance. He looked over to Gisbourne. Robin noted how he was still his disgustingly perfect self. "You wanted to speak to me?" he said, arms outstretched in false surrender.

The guards reached their hands to their hilts but Gisbourne reached out an arm, stopping them. "We are not here to fight, Hood."

Robin grimaced. "Such a shame. I do so enjoy beating you. So why are you here? And more importantly, where is my good friend other wise known as the Sheriff? Surely he is not too cowardly to appear himself?"

Gisbourne shook his head sadly. "You don't know what you're dealing with here, Hood. This petulance needs to be stopped."

"For your information, it has been," Robin remarked curtly.

Gisbourne still looked odd. "So I've heard. And I feel that you must be congratulated upon stopping the spread of the disease."

"Stop it, I'm blushing," Robin said flatly.

Giving a sideways glance to his men, Gisbourne walked forward. Robin waited, on edge but he stood his ground. Gisbourne only stopped when he was a few feet from Robin, a good distance from his men.

Gisbourne spoke in a hushed voice. "You need to run inside now."

"And you need to stop telling me what to do."

"No. Listen. The Sheriff wanted me to distract you. He wants this pestilence stopped at all costs. He has already sent other men in through other entrances to burn down the castle."

"And what of the people inside who still live?" Robin said, shaking with fury.

Gisbourne took a deep breath, eyes closed. "What do you think?"

Robin turned and ran. Fearing the plague, the guards did not stop chase him. Leon was waiting at the entrance way. "What did he say?" he asked in alarm.

"They're going to torch the place," Robin said quickly. "What other entrances are there to the castle."

Leon was trying his hardest to not work himself into a frenzy. "The uh, the servants entrance. At the rear, north side, that is."

"What is going on?" Marian said, running up beside them. "Gisbourne is here? What did he say?"

"They plan to burn the castle down!" Leon cried, racking his fingers sharply through his hair. "Can we get everyone out?"

"There isn't time!" Marian said in horror. "Most are too sick to move!"

"We need to get to the servants entrance, now!" Robin said firmly. "Marian, go and get help. Any able-bodied people need to scour the castle, find any source of flame and snub it out! She was gone before he had even finished his sentence.

Robin and Leon ran. Faster than they ever thought possible. Smoke was already filling up the corridors but both refused to believe it was too late.

It was obvious that they could not reach the source of the flames in time. It had already spread too far. They was no water in sight. Leon trembled as he realised their fate.

Robin's eyes burned as attempted to get closer. Leon pulled him back by the collar. "There is a well not far from the servants entrance!" Robin yelled, struggling to be heard over the roar of the flames. "If I can just get to it …"

"It's too late!" Leon yelled back. "Go and get everyone out!"

"Where are you going?" Robin yelled but Leon had already run in a different direction. He threw up his hands in frustration but ran back. Another corridor was also filling with smoke, informing Robin that there was more than one source.

So he ran even faster back to the grand hallway, where they had kept the sick. The flames were a good distance away but Robin feared how quickly they would spread. "It's no use!" He said in a mad rush to Luke and Marian. They had organised a small group but Robin knew there was no water source. "We need to get everyone out."

Their lack of action angered him further. " _Come on then!_!"

Marian turned away, wiping her tears. Allen took multiple deep breaths but was unable to say it.

"Robin. We can't," Allen said appearing in the doorway. He pulled Robin away and spoke quickly in a hush undertone. "There is no hope for these people. Not one person has been cured. Not a single person. They are all dying and we cannot risk these others by saving them."

" _I'm not letting them die, Allen,"_ Robin said, through gritted teeth.

" _Well then you will die yourself!"_ Allen yelled. "And so will I. And so will Marian. Every single person here will die. We need to save who we can and go."

Leon ran back in the room. " _Where the hell have you been?_ " Robin yelled.

"We need to go, now!" Leon said. "The entrance is blocked. But I know another way. But we need to be fast before the flames block that too."

Robin looked to the dying. "You can't ask me to do this," he whispered.

"I'm not asked, I'm telling," Allen said, pulling hard upon his friends arm.

The small group ran down a deep stairway. Luke nearly tripped due to the short length of the stairs but Michael managed to steady him whilst keeping his own balance. They came out in the kitchens. Unfortunately there was another entrance to the kitchens and the smoke was already engulfing the room. Leon led them to a large wooden platform. He pushed them to stand upon it. He then pointed to a wheel. "It's for large amounts of kitchen supplies!" he yelled to Robin. "If I turn that, you will be raised up!" He pointed above and through the smoke, Robin could make out a gap.

Allen felt a strong sweep of relief. This was gone almost instantaneously. "But who will pull you up?"

"I'll be fine," Leon assured, pushing him back onto the platform.

"We're not leaving you!" Marian yelled, attempting to pull him.

" _Then we all die_!" Leon yelled, leaping away from his touch. "Besides," he said quietly. "This is all my fault."

Robin began to deny him but Leon cut him off. " _Just don't! I tracked the movements of the plague. The first to die were my friends. The people I visited and had contact with! There is not a single exception!"_

His eyes bore so many agony and sadness. "And besides …" He held out his arms, pulling back the sleeves.

Despite the smoke, Robin could make out a rash. "I'm dying anyway," Leon said, tears streaming down his face.

This odd sense of calm remained upon Leon. "Go."

Marian still continued in her attempt to pull him to them. Robin pulled her back.

Allen remained rooted to the spot, still not on the platform. "This is not how this ends!"

Leon smiled through his tears. "I always knew I was the best," he whispered. And with one final shove, he pushed Allen back. "I would embrace you," he called, beginning to turn the wheel. "But you're too darn ugly."

The wheel turned and the platform raised.

Even though the smoke, Robin could see Leon.

And he was smiling.

.

.

.

Pete's somber expression matched each and every Merry Man as he entered camp. He was more than just a local and trusted physcian, he was their friend. In his hand he held a small piece of parchment in his fist, but seemed unwilling to show it. The Merry Men sat around the fire, for the most part in silence. Marian had remained, unwilling to return to Nottingham straight away. She knew there would be trouble from her absence. But nothing was making sense. Leon was dead.

Fate had been slightly kind to them. The red sky of the early morning had given way to rain. This rain quenched the flames before too much damage was done to the castle. But it was too late for Leon. Michael had retrieved his body after both Robin and Allen were unwilling. Luke had accompanied him but knew instantly that there was nothing he could do.

But in other ways, fate was unbelievably cruel. The fire had not reached the grand hallway, leaving the victims unburned. But the sickness claimed them all within hours. In a way, it was fortunate that Robin and the others could clear their consciences slightly for leaving them. But Robin still felt personally responsible. Not one innocent person had survived.

Michael had accompanied them back to camp. Robin intended for him to join the Merry Men, although it was not the right moment to formally suggest this. For after all, there was a space going.

Luke rose when his mentor arrived, reaching out his hand for the parchment. Pete looked unsure but allowed him to take it. Robin saw how his friends face fell. "What? What did you find out?"

Pete cleared his throat. "I think I know what caused the plague. Leon was poisoned with Devil's Creeper. A very deadly and rare plant. The carrier shows minimal symptoms, maybe a slight fever if anything. This is what makes it so deadly. It spreads like wildfire and they won't even know they are carrying it."

Allen snatched the parchment away to read for himself.

"But who would do such a thing to Leon?" Marian whimpered. Robin held her closer. In light of current situations they seemed to have temporarily forgotten or chosen to ignore their current issues to comfort one another.

Allen was silent.

Upon hearing that Leon had momentarily disappeared before his death, Allen had returned to the abandoned drawing room, sure that this was where Leon must have gone. Sure enough, metal grates had been lowered, preventing the fire from entering the general vicinity. He used that same trick to open the door to see the room, exactly as they had left it. Right down to the goblet, still partially full upon the mantle. Allen recalled Leon drinking from it when they had first left the archive. Allen's own distaste for wine had prevented him from drinking from the same goblet. He also recalled his thoughts. He had wondered why there had been wine in a supposed abandoned drawing room. And Leon had been surprised. If Leon had been the only one who knew how to open the door, how could he have not knows. Allen shoved the goblet flying in a fury. How could he not have known? This was how Leon had been poisoned. And he had stood by and allowed the whole thing to happen.

Out of curiosity, he felt inside the fireplace, pulling the box free. He cursed himself for not asking Leon for the code. But he saw that this would not be a problem. The box was open. And there was no key inside it.

A moment of clear understanding overtook Allen. They had gotten too close. Someone did not like Leon helping him. So they had killed him.

He threw the box against the wall with such force that the lid snapped away upon impact.

The Merry Men had never been inept at coping with the death of one of their own. Leon was buried alongside seven of his brethren that he had never met. They had all been killed during that first year. The one person he would have recognised was the seventh grave. Robin had buried Wilfred there. Having no family of his own, it had been all too easy to secure the body.

It was a somber time. Tears were shed, kind words spoken. Eventually Allen could not take it anymore, retiring to his cabin. He could no look into anyone's eyes with his overwhelming guilt.

The cabin was not much easier. For he had once shared it both Robin and Leon. Now there was an empty bed. He looked down upon it, wondering how long it would take Leon's scent to vanish from the coverings. He stroked a hand along the coarse material only to find an odd shape beneath.

Pulling back the quilt, he found a scroll. Another family tree. Allen opened it with haste praying for it to be the Godwinson Family Tree.

But he was wrong.

It was a family tree.

But not of whom he expected.


	18. Chapter 18

The September festival was always a grand affair in Nottingham and the Merry Men looked forward to it alongside everyone else. Allen found himself as one of the few who were unable to show excitement. It had been over two months since Leon passed and he still thought of it constantly. Everyone had been sympathetic at first but soon life went on. Everyone knew that death was a realistic obstacle in their chosen lives and knew to push forward. Allen had always been the same but this was worse. Because he was the one who had inducted Leon into his foolish cause. Because of this, Allen left behind all of his clues toward this mysterious Godwinson, finally leaving well enough alone.

No sooner had they arrived at the festival when all of the Merry Men took off in their intended directions. All were well disguised and knew the rules they were follow. From this, they were left to their own devices. Allen was sure that this would prove to be a mistake. Thomas went straight to a mulled wine cart. This was never good.

Michael had joined the Merry Men shortly after they met him. He had well and truly proved himself since his work with Derby. Most approved of him because of kind nature and easy humour. Some had their doubts because of his severe lack of training with a blade. "Honestly," Roger had complained, "It's like having a second Much." True, Michael had minimal skill. But his goodness was exactly what the gang needed.

Robin had no doubt had his own personal benefits from keeping Michael close. And that was because how quickly a strong bond formed between Michael and Marian. They were fast friends and they were often visiting one another. And any reason to have Marian around camp was fine by Robin.

But Allen had noticed a strain between them. It was not often that they spoke without fighting. Robin joked everything away but surely he must be noticing the struggle. Allen had seen them at their best but now he feared that they approached their worst.

This was not intended to be Allen's main concern of the day. Robin was constantly doing something to get himself into trouble and there was an obvious problem that they faced.

"Good luck!" Michael called back as he wandered off. Robin smirked, knowing that he did not need it, unable to tear his eyes away from the signup line of the archery tournament.

"You know, Robin," Allen said, dragging behind his friend, "little known fact; you are probably the best archer in England. There1 Does that help your ego? Can we avoid this obvious trap of an archery tournament?"

Robin stopped, nose scrunched. "Probably? I'm 'probably' the best archer?"

Allen groaned. "Fine! You're the best! The most amazing man to ever walk these lands. Can we go home now?"

Robin snorted. "Probably," he said again with a chuckle, walking forward once more.

Allen knew it was completely useless to argue with Robin in any sense. And this issue was even worse than others. Robin did not care about the prize. He did not care about the fame. He just wanted to win.

Allen wandered around the grounds, losing himself in his thoughts. Occasionally he saw a Merry Man frolicking about. The day had barely started when he saw Thomas drunkenly tripped over his own feet. His trusted drinking pal was right behind him, tripping in the same fashion. Allen struggled to remembered his name but he thought it to be Mark. Either way, the two of the were a picture of elegance and grace as they toppled about.

He also saw John and Amelia, strolling about hand in hand. And Matthew was joining in a game of kickball with some young children.

Perhaps the oddest interaction of the day was when Allen met Benny. For Benny as not alone. He held the smallest puppy that Allen had ever seen. But before he could be met with either sets of puppy dog eyes he spoke a loud and residing, "No!"

"Oh come on!" Benny moaned. Stroking the small black fur. "Valarie's daughter's old dog just had a litter. And this here is the runt. No one wants him!"

"You are not keeping the dog," Allen said, rolling his eyes.

"Please?" Benny begged, extended each syllable of the word in an extremely irritating fashion.

"Robin will never let you. Dogs make noise. And noise is not ideal for secret camps."

Benny had a strong look of determination on his face as he carried the pup off. Allen had a sneaking suspicion that Sherwood Forest was about to gain a pet.

Allen was sure that nothing more could go wrong for him. Robin was going to enter the damn archery tournament and be caught, Benny would cry over the pup but they would all escape and life would continue. But he had not counted upon one final thing. He had wandered a little too far off from the main festival. People ebbed away until he thought he was alone. But turning a corner, he saw Marian and Gisbourne, kissing passionately.

Allen breathed deeply, looking skyward. "Why God?" he uttered. "Why do you hate me?"

Marian leapt away in fright when she saw Allen. She quickly ran toward him. "Allen! Shouldn't you be at the festival?"

"I could ask the same of you," Allen said, giving a sideways glance to Gisbourne.

Marian knew that the game was up and wished to speak freely with Allen. Turning back to Gisbourne, she said, "I think I need to have a quick word here. Shall I meet you in a little bit?"

He looked unsure but walked away. He gave Allen a warm smile before leave that Allen did not return.

" _What do you think you're doing?"_ Allen snapped. "Oh this is bad. This is really bad. This is really really really bad!"

"Okay, Allen calm down," Marian said, rubbing her temple.

"No! This is really bad! How long has this been going on?"

Marian looked very guilty. "It depends, really?"

Allen groaned. "No, it doesn't. It is a very simple question."

"Well, as you know, I met Guy when I was first sent to France to recover."

"Since when is recover a code for… that…?" He trailed off, not wanting to say it.

Marian responded by striking him into silence. "Well he became one of my closest friends. And then … I don't know. I suppose I fell in love with him …"

" _No!_ " Allen yelled, halting her words. "Never love. Shall we not use such words?"

She was clearly not impressed. "I think you are making this sound a lot worse than it is, Allen."

"No! Definitely not! If anything, I am improving things! All right, let me define my question. How long have you been sneaking around Nottingham with him on occasions such as this?"

The guilty face returned. "A few months, maybe?"

Allen grunted. "Naturally."

"But it's not what you think …"

"And what is it that I think Marian?"

"I love him. And I think he intends to propose …" She stopped when she noticed Allen's odd reaction. He stood very still, eyes squeezed shut. "Allen, what are you doing?"

Allen shushed her. "I am wishing it all away. If I wish hard enough, this will all be a dream. I think it's working."

It was her turn to roll her eyes.

"And what of Robin?" Allen asked, as calmly as he could.

She sighed. "You know full well that that can never happen."

"Never stopped you before."

"I will always have a special place in my heart for Robin. But while, I may love him, I certainly don't like him very much. We never get along! And I just …" She broke off, unable to think of the right thing to say.

"This is going to end horribly," Allen muttered. "How could you do this to Robin?"

"This is exactly why I don't tell you things!" she exclaimed, angrily. "You always take his side!" She stormed away from him, striding back to the festival.

Allen clasped his hands atop his head, looking skyward and praying for patience. "If you were here Leon…" he whispered.

Once she was gone, he reflecting upon the other reason for his dismay. Leon had left him something very important. The family tree for the house of Gisbourne. From this, he knew that Gisbourne's grandmother on his Mother's side had been a Godwinson. But due to his overwhelming guilt, Allen had chose to not pursue this.

He ran after Marian. "Look, I'm sorry … " he began but she was not through with her anger.

"You're supposed to be my friend too, Allen! Which is why I knew I was not going to have your approval but I did hope for a small bit of support and trust in my judgment."

It took all that Robin had to not snort with laughter at her judgment.

"I swear, once you get to know him, you will see Gisbourne is a wonderful … "

"You want me to get to know him?" Allen said, suddenly, realising his prime opportunity. "As in, sit down have a good chat about things such as out pasts, family relationships and I don't know, things like that?"

She was concerned with his sudden enthusiasm. "Well, yes."

He faked a large sigh, as if he were relenting. "I suppose I could have a brief talk with this man of yours. Since we are such good friends and all." Before she could question him, he strode away.

He scurried back fast enough. "Although, we probably shouldn't tell Robin about this, yet."

"Do you think me completely mad?"

,

,

,

Allen had lived under many roles throughout his life. Lord, outlaw, son, coward, hero. But he was about to embark upon a new title; big brother.

He followed behind Marian as she searched for Gisbourne, all the while attempting to look at intimidating as possible. He tried his hardest but it did him little good. Outlaw life kept him fit and agile, but sadly did little for his scrawny body. When he finally found himself facing Gisbourne, he felt even smaller when in contrast. Still, he drew himself as tall as he could, puffed out his chest and folded his arms in a sultry fashion.

His efforts were unseen. Gisbourne greeted him warmly. Marian stood between them, anxiously looking from one to the other. "Well, I know you have already met but once again, Guy this is Allen, one of my oldest friends."

Allen knew his strength must lie within his facial features. Somehow, he managed to contort his face to the perfect stone cold glare. And that look remained forever etched there.

Unbeknownst to Allen, it made him look a tad foolish. The other two looked nervously to one another before Gisbourne gestured to a nearby table. "Shall we?"

Small wooden tables had been laid out near the food and beverage stalls of the purpose of the festival. The idea had been genuine but not well thought out. Saxons were the main patrons of such events and they had little money to spare of frivolous purchases. So they group found little trouble in finding a table. Martha had abandoned her tavern for the day, following the money as she knew that rich Normans would also be in attendance. She brought over three tankards of mulled wine, looking to Allen for secret information. He gave the smallest the smallest shake of the head. She smirked, knowing that she would force him to tell her later.

As soon as she was gone, all three missed her presence. For the table was unnaturally silent. Marian and Gisbourne wore their false smiles until Allen was certain their cheeks must ache.

He turned to Marian. "So how am I supposed to get to know him with you breathing down my neck?"

"But- I …"

"Go on. Shoo! Go and find Annie or something. I'm sure she is off making young orphans weep. Just follow the scent of pure evil."

Marian was still hesitant but she slowly rose. "I'll be right back."

Allen reclined in his chair, slowly looking Gisbourne up and down.

"So … How long have you known Marian?"

"A few years," Allen replied with a smug grin. Gisbourne raised the tankard to his mouth and took a deep drink. "… We were to be married," Allen added. Gisbourne almost choked. "… We didn't go through with it of course.. She became betrothed to my best friend."

"Something tells me that that did not happen."

"No. She was betrothed to our other best friend instead."

Gisbourne let out a deep breath. Allen smugness only grew. In his eyes, he had just won a minor battle. "But enough about me. Tell me about you. Let's start with your family."

Gisbourne looked uncomfortable. "Actually, my family is something that I do not care to discuss. I do hope that you will excuse me."

Allen leant forward, creating a bridge with his fingers and leaning his chin upon it. "And why is that?"

Gisbourne looked away. "I do not consider my blood relatives to be my family."

There was sincerity in his words. Allen was unsure how to respond. His entire purpose had been to steer conversation to this unknown Grandmother. But he could sense that Gisbourne would not allow this to happen.

A distant voice boomed out across the crowds. Allen struggled to listen atop the constant sounds of voices but he distinctly heard the word archery. Warning bells rang in his mind and he leapt up from the table, almost knocking it away in his haste. "I have to go," he said quickly, as a means of excusing himself.

The mystery of Godwinson would have to wait. Knowing Robin, he was bound to get himself captured.

But before he could get very far, Marian clutched at his arm. "Where are you going?"

Allen gestured in the general direction. "It's very complicated and not particularly interesting but you see Robin …"

She made a snide sound, stepping away. It as a quiet sound but it was enough to stop him. "Something you wanted to voice?" he said, his voice taking a dangerous tone.

"No, you go," she said, flinging an arm our to show his freedom. "Go back to your little friend. Because apparently I no longer fall into that category."

Allen had learned a lot about Marian that day. And the most surprising was that he found himself furious at her. "You know, this may surprise you to hear, but I have larger things to worry about than your love life. Do you think I enjoy being a watching the _spectacle_ that is you and Robin on your endless journey into forever. Well here is something interesting for you to hear? No one cares. I stopped caring a long time ago. You are only pushing this in the hopes that I create drama because that is what you live off. And, let's be honest here, you don't love this man. You may have convinced yourself that you do but that is only so you can hurt Robin because he hurt you so much by leaving you behind. But guess what, life isn't always about you. You may go through day to day life, worrying about your colossal problems of which incredibly wealthy Lord you will marry. But you know what I main concern is? Getting through the day without dying. And my next concern after that? Ensuring that my friends make it through the day without dying. Are you beginning to see the bigger picture here? There is a whole world, that continues on everyday, regardless of you. So wake up and enjoy it. It shouldn't be hard for you."

And with that, he stormed off, almost trampling a group of passing children in his haste.

He expected her to follow him, to fight him with that fiery spirit. But when he dared to look back, he saw that she had not moved from that same spot. She took a series of deep, shaking breaths, blinking rapidly.

Allen watched as Gisbourne walked up beside her, asking something that he could not hear. She shook her head, smiling. But even from a distance, Allen could see that there was no happiness in the action. It was little more than a distraction. Gisbourne thought the same as he held both her hands in his, speaking kindly but firmly to her. She nodded as a small genuine smile broke through. A few tears also appeared and he gently pulled her to him. He held her close, stroking her hair. As soon as his arms engulfed her, Marian sunk into them. She turned her head into his chest, closing her eyes. Gisbourne rested his chin atop her head, smiling with content.

Allen could not hear one word that was said. He did not need to. For he finally realised, it was not made up. This was not some elaborate ploy. Marian loved him. And he loved her.

A voice from behind him broke Allen's concentration as he turned to see Robin fast approaching him.

Allen furrowed his brow in worry, taking great strides forward to meet his friend. "Why aren't you at the archery? Surely you'll miss your set?" His voice was a tad higher than normal. Allen could hear himself doing it and cursed interanally, knowing that this was an obvious sign of his lies.

But Robin seemed to excited to notice. "My group is a little later in the afternoon. Then I'll be in the finals, obviously. But this wait is great because it is giving me a chance to rethink some things. Now, bear with me but I have a last minute plan. And I know what you are going to say and admittedly yes, it is a bit more dangerous and there is a tad more life threatening risk but just wait until you …"

His voice trailed away and Allen did not need to turn to see what Robin had witnessed. What he could see was the look in Robin's eyes. Allen had never thought it possible to be able to physically witness a heartbreak. But apparently there was a first time for everything.

"Robin, don't –"

He had not expected his words to work and was fully aware that Robin would storm away.

"This is a little familiar, isn't it?" Robin called over.

Marian's eyes snapped open as she hurriedly stepped away from Gisbourne. But she knew that the damage had been done. "Robin … " she said, thinking to defend herself but she found that there were no words.

Robin did not acknowledge her. "Gisbourne! Long time no see! So tell me, how are you? You must be incredibly busy after killing your best friend and then assisting in the killing of mine. But I can see that you obviously had Marian here to help pull you through."

Gisbourne was unreadable. He spoke in a lowered voice. "You are drawing unnecessary attention to yourself and there are guards everywhere."

Robin clapped a hand to his heart. "Such chivalry! So kind of you to worry over me."

Drawing himself to his full height, Gisbourne said, "I'm not worried about you in the slightest. But how do you think it will look for Marian to be caught in your presence. Or do you enjoy ruining her life on multiple occasions?"

Fuming, Robin stepped forward. "And who are you to tell me how to behave around her."

"I'm her fiancé, that's who."

Neither man moved. Eyes were fixed in unmovable death stares. Marian bit her lip nervously. Allen slipped his hand into hers, finally becoming her friend again.

It was inevitable. Swords were pulled from hilts and the clanging of metal filled the area. From the looks of both Robin and Gisbourne's faces, they intended to fight to the death.

A crowd began to gather, growing larger by the second. Allen could see the looks on people's faces. They saw someone employed by the Sheriff fighting their hero and instantaneously, he was to became their enemy by association.

Robin thrived off the people's support, delivering fast paced swings which did well in distracting Gisbourne so Robin could use his fists as additional weapons.

Robin's anger made him distracted and Gisbourne was quick to retaliate with strong parries that forced Robin back, losing him the upper hand.

"You said he intended to propose," Allen muttered through clenched teeth.

"I lied," she mumbled nervously. "I do that on occasion."

"Never would have guessed."

"I thought you would panic to hear all the news at once."

"You would have been right, but I hate to break it to you, this is not drastically better."

Marian laughed through the fear. "I know you think otherwise, but I didn't want this." She squeezed incredibly tight on his hand as she saw a thrust from Robin slice deep into Gisbourne's side.

"Robin doesn't kill," Allen said, trying to assure both Marian and himself. He knew this was a lie.

Gisbourne held out a hand, informing the guards to stay back. It was obvious that this was his fight. He acted with surprising speed, racing forward. Robin had not expected it and was sent sprawling to the ground. He turned onto his back quickly to block what could have been a deadly blow and roll back onto his feet.

The crowd had grown ridiculous in size. Other Merry Men had finally begun to arrive, although there was nothing they could do. Just as Gisbourne had sent off his men, Robin had done the same.

"What in the name of …" Will appeared at Allen's side, watching openmouthed,

"They're going to kill each other!" Much breathed in astonishment.

Both men were already displaying wounds. Blood was prominent upon both of them. In the speed of battle, it was difficult to determine who was the worse off.

Gisbourne turned his sword arm, slamming the hilt straight into Robin's face. The action and pain both stunned and temporarily blinded Robin. It made things all to easy for Gisbourne to small the hilt once more into Robin's ribs. A strong kick rom his boot sent Robin down. That same boot crashed down upon Robin's arm, causing him to release his sword in with a cry of pain. Gisbourne kicked the sword away and placed his own sword beside Robin's neck.

Allen moved forward, ignoring Marian pulling him back. As soon as that blade was pressed to kill, Allen had seen red. This man was now an enemy. But Allen could not move while the blade remained. Other Merry Men ran forward as best they could, bows and swords raised. The guards did the same.

" _Enough_ "

The Sheriff finally made an appearance, swarmed by guards. The people nearest him quickly leapt away, clearing him a path.

His beady eyes flicked about the scene, judging the odds. It was obviously a chaotic mess. "Well, it wouldn't be a festival without a bit of drama now would it? Now, we have all had our fun. Best we call it a day."

"I can kill him for your, My Lord," Gisbourne said coldly.

Allen heard the smallest of gasps from Marian. But there was no other sound.

" _Kill him and we kill you!_ " Allen yelled, turning his bow toward the Sheriff.

The Sheriff only chuckled. "We have been through this outlaws. We all know the rules. The game is a bit more complex than that. So you call off your men and I call off mine."

Allen refused to move. "You first then, _My Lord._ "

The Sheriff smirked as he flicked his wrist. The Guards looked to one another but slowly lowered their weapons. Gisbourne was the last to move. He did not retreat as quickly as he ought to have done. Instead, he stooped down low, whispering to Robin. "I let you win with our little archery game. But I will not let you win this."


	19. Chapter 19

_Allen had always hated attending social gatherings. The banquets, the dancing—he hated them all with a passion. He loathed people at the best of times. But being in the public eye whilst under disgrace made it even less enjoyable. The whole experience in Nottingham had not displayed Allen well in the eyes of social graces. Not that he overly cared. Pleasing others had never been high on his list of priorities. But he was hardly proud of his cowardice and did not revel in the fact that it was instantly widespread._

 _Overall, he had been pleased to escape Nottingham without broken bones and obvious bleeding. Many threats had been thrown about. Horrible words were spoken. But the whole situation put everyone in a bad light. The Lord of Barnsdale may have showed cowardice, trickery and betrayal (in the words of the Sheriff) but the Sheriff had been deluded by it, making him appear foolish. And that was truly unforgivable in his eyes. So they had all parted ways in an uneasy truce, with the understanding that this would never be spoken of again. Needless to say, no kind words of farewell were spoken._

 _Allen knew that he was in for a world of abuse. This had already come to pass from the Sheriff and he expected it from his Father. What he had not expected was the way his best friend turned on him also. He had gone to Robert to seek solitude amongst the madness. But Robert had scorned him, barely speaking to him. Barely so much as looking at him, in fact. And this was the part that Allen could not stand. Though he would never admit it, he needed Robert. His companionship helped through day to day life. Suddenly he was alone. Leon visited often but it was not the same._

 _Most of all, Allen wanted answers to why there was silence in the first place. He had apologised until he could recite the same speech in his sleep but it did no good. Deep down, Allen hardly believed there was much reason to be sorry. He had not known that Robert would take his place! It was an outrageous plan to begin with. And he would never have let them hurt his friend. And the Sheriff had tried his best to order punishment! Allen had accepted claims against himself but did not stand for anything to be said about Robert. He liked to believe that the Sheriff respected him for these moments of bravery when he would stand up for Robert. But deep down, he knew that the Sheriff probably had very little nice things to say about him and he could live with that. What he couldn't live with was the silence._

 _So initially, Allen had looked forward to the ball in Cumberland, just for the purpose of getting him away from that damned manor. But no secret can ever be kept amongst nobility. He should have known that the story would be common knowledge. Because of this, he could feel everyone's eyes upon him the moment he stepped in the banquet hall. And then the whispers began, following him wherever he went._

 _He clutched two goblets of wine from a nearby serving tray, glaring at anyone brave enough to gaze openly at him. Leon ducked in beside him, snatching away one of the goblets. "Thanks."_

 _"Thank yourself. They were both for me," Allen moaned, attempting to grab it back._

 _"Oh, come on," Leon snorted, "it's not that bad. In a matter of hours someone will do something so much more shocking then you could ever do. Especially if they drink at half the rate you are going with."_

 _"So what do you propose I do?" Allen asked, his words slurring a little._

 _Leon had always eased into social occasions without batting an eyelid. "Drink, dance and be merry!" he replied, grandly._

 _Allen just groaned and watched as her friend was pulled away by a group of fellow Lords. Leaving him alone. Naturally._

 _The one thing Allen knew about Norman life was, if one faced a problem, one should pretend that it doesn't exist. So he smiled. And he mingled. At least he tried to. People still openly judged him. But that was what was considered entertainment for such people._

 _Brushing things off proved to be tiresome work as the night dragged on. Eventually, Allen thought to follow Leon's advice literally and dance. The trick to supplying a willing dance partner was to seek out a damsel and save her from a worse fate. A target was acquired when he spotted two young women. The older was far less beautiful and even from a distance, Allen could note her dreary disposition. The younger woman seemed to be putting all possible effort into stopping a yawn._

 _"My Lady, would you be so kind as to indulge me in a dance?" Allen was a tad put out at how much consideration went into her decision. Surely, he was the lesser of two evils. Eventually he won out as she begrudgingly held out her hand. Allen tried not to sneer as he took it._

 _He noticed Leon running about like a mad man, trying to get his attention. It was awfully distracting. Dancing had never been Allen's strong point and he had to focus on the steps. But Leon was desperately trying to mime something._

 _"Your friend is rather enthusiastic," she said._

 _The look on Leon's face informed Allen that trouble was afoot. And despite his crazed antics, all eyes were on the pair dancing._

 _This do not go unnoticed by either of them. "What did you say your name was?" she asked._

 _He was surprised that she did not know him. "Allen of Barnsdale."_

 _Suddenly she stopped dancing, jerking her hands away. Finally, he understood. "Lady Marian."_

 _He could feel eyes upon him. The music seemed to slow and be filled with errors as even the musicians were distracted. "What do we do?" he muttered with a big false smile._

 _She raised her hand back to his. "We dance," she hissed. "We smiled and we continue."_

 _He did so, nervously. And he was surprised at how everyone began to go about their business. When the music stopped he felt wonderfully ordinary once more. That was the first instance in which he was bestowed with one of Marian's anger smiles as he would later call them. This was the action in which she would maintain a perfectly kind smile but mutter something in a tone that made a grown man tremble. "Meet me on the balcony."_

 _There was a long list of things he would rather do. Be struck in the face, for one. Or run through hot embers. But he feared her far too much to ignore a direct order._

 _"I tried to warn you!" Leon said, sheepishly falling into step with him._

 _"Warning me beforehand would have been preferable!" he hissed. "Did you know she was here?"_

 _"Of course not! I would have said!"_

 _Allen rubbed his forehead in frustration. "This is great. And now she wants me to meet her outside."_

 _Leon gulped. "So what are you going to do."_

 _"Exactly what she says."_

 _"Are you mad? What is she causes a scene?"_

 _"And embarrasses me further? Have you not seen how people are already treating me?"_

 _Even as he spoke, Allen was taking small steps towards following her which did not go unnoticed by Leon. "You're a little bit afraid of her, aren't you?"_

 _"No!" Allen said definitely, praying that the tremble in his voice was not too apparent. "But on an unrelated note, I had better hurry up. It would be rude to keep her waiting."_

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _Marian shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. The winter months were ending but it certainly did not feel that way. Her breath came forth in short white clouds as she thought that this was still preferable to being back in the warmth of the hall with all of the cold glares. She was done with the whispers and the stifled laughter. But the worst was the pitying glances._

 _The minutes dragged on and she knew that she shouldn't be surprised. Lord Allen was hardly known for his punctuality. She began to wonder if he would send an imposter out to meet her and laughed at her own joke._

 _Finally she was rewarded as Lord Allen sheepishly joined her. He was joined by another man that she did know or care about. "Lord Allen," she said, as a way of greeting. "I'm sorry that we are to meet under these circumstances. But I fear that this is almost entirely your own doing."_

 _Allen looked to Leon, hoping for support. But his 'brave' friend had slunk back to the doorframe, ready to run if need be. "I'm sorry?" he finally said, but the apology came out more in the form of a question as he wondered if she would accept it._

 _Clearly, she would not. "For what? The shame? The humiliation?"_

 _"Technically shame and humiliation are the same thing," Allen muttered under his breath. This was not a wise choice of words._

 _Leon was rather amused, snorted in the background. This only turned her anger toward him. "And you must be?"_

 _"Oh don't mind me," he said, trying desperately to slink back. "I'm the other friend."_

 _"Oh yes," she said darkly. "The friend."_

 _Allen found her face oddly unreadable after that. But as long as she was not angry, things were faring well in his favour._

 _"How is, the friend?" she asked, seemingly uncaringly._

 _Allen shrugged. "All right, I guess. In a right mood but that's fine. He can that way if he likes."_

 _"What's wrong with him?"_

 _"Robert? Why do you care? You guardian almost had him whipped for something that had nothing to do with him! You see how you fare after such an occasion. But other than that, I have no clue what's on his mind. As I say, he's been in a right mood."_

 _She folded her arms. "Probably that girl of his."_

 _Allen's ears perked up at that. "Girl? Kindly do tell."_

 _She looked away. "The one he is in love with."_

 _Leon had selected the wrong moment to take a drink from his goblet. He proceeded to spit it all out. "Love? What?"_

 _Marian sighed. "He told me about a girl he was in love with. But he could never be with her. Because of their different classes. He lied about a lot of things but that seemed genuine. Or maybe it wasn't. Damned if I know."_

 _Allen was trying his best to remain calm but internally, he was furious. How dare his best friend have a secret love and not tell him! Although it could explain his recent behavior._

 _"Interesting," Leon said, his voice trailing away._

 _"Interesting?" Allen sputtered. "Not exactly the word I would use. "Well he must have told you more! Any other clues would be greatly appreciated."_

 _She just shrugged. "He did mention marrying a whore at one point."_

 _Allen had to steady himself against the balcony railing._

 _"Seriously?" Leon said, looking at the pair of them as if they were the worlds biggest fools. "You two surely cannot be this daft."_

 _They both stood still, aside from the occasional blink of confusion._

 _Leon groaned. "Robert has never mentioned a girl before. And we are always with him, Allen. One of us would have noticed."_

 _"So you're saying…?" Allen looked to Marian, wondering if this was making any more sense to her than himself. She looked just as bewildered._

 _Leon gave the biggest sigh of exasperation. "Right. Shall I go and enjoy the ball, have a good nights sleep and finish up odd jobs and by the time I come back, you genius' might have worked it all out."_

 _Allen responded by scratching his head. Marian twiddled her thumbs_

 _"Oh for goodness sake," Leon muttered, realising that he was going to have explain this fully. "He was talking about her!" he said, gesturing toward Marian._

 _Allen's mouth formed a small 'o' shape and he stayed frozen like that for a while. Marian turned, looking out over the balcony._

 _Allen eventually regained movement, groaning loudly. "I am so sorry," he said to Marian. "Clearly Robert has lost his head a little. But you needn't worry. You don't even need to worry about letting him down gently because you are never go to see him again and-"_

 _"Allen!" Leon said, with a little too much force._

 _"What?" Allen cried, mimicking the dramatic force._

 _Leon simply gestured to Marian and Allen noticed the look on her face. He saw a vulnerability in her eyes that he had never seen before. A heart wrenching mixture of hope and despair. "You feel the same…"_

 _"Of course not," she said, with little conviction._

 _"You're lying."_

 _Her sad gaze was fixed upon him and he could feel his insides turning. He knew it was a feeling of determination. Right then, he resolved that it was his new mission to help. "Right, we are going to do something about this."_

 _"We are?" she said in surprise._

 _"We are?" Leon said, sounding unimpressed._

 _"Have you ever considering visiting Barnsdale?"_

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _Robert had done well in his mission of avoiding Allen. He told himself that it was because of Allen's cowardice. Why else would he be so resentful? He wanted nothing more to move on from the event of Nottingham. To forget the days that passed. But he continued to think of her, despite how hard he tried not to. He could be participating in any every day to day task when suddenly she was back in his mind. And each time this happened, he knew. He was not angry at Allen. He was jealous. Jealous about the life Allen could lead. The same could be said for Leon or any Lord that they encountered. If he really wanted to, Allen could have Marian. He could be a knight too. Everything Robin had dared to want in life would be an ease to his friend. So no, he could not bear to be around him. And he felt the smallest twinge of regret at how hurt Allen obviously was. But that twinge was quickly silenced with the rage of jealousy that loudly drowned out all else._

 _Allen returned from his trip to Cumberland seemingly rejuvenated. It irked Robin how, despite having a whole estate to run about and still he managed to find himself wherever Robert was stationed. He was beginning to think that the act was intentional. And of course, it was not as if Robert could simply dismiss himself. He was a servant. No choices and no freedom. All he could do was pointedly look anywhere but at his master._

 _And still, Allen did not leave. "Aren't you going to ask me how the ball went?" he asked, after a long silence._

 _Robert tried not to glare. "I'm busy." He clearly wasn't. He was on duty, guarding the grounds. But Barnsdale rarely faced and real problems. So he was basically standing, watching a wall. But even that was preferable._

 _"So you want to know nothing? Absolutely nothing."_

 _"Apparently so."_

 _"Last chance to ask."_

 _"Allen!" Robert cried._

 _Allen simply smirked, remembering a conversation he had had with Leon on the previous day. Leon had defended their friend, stating that Allen really ought to explain the plan to him. But Allen was still sore about Robert's recent treatment of him and over the fact that he had not once mentioned his true feelings toward Marian. So instead, he simply said, "Oh and by the way, you will need to reassigned tomorrow. We are receiving important visitors from Nottingham. You remember Marian, don't you?"_

 _Despite the fact that he was standing still, Robert managed to stumble._

 _Allen smuggled his laughter. "Well, I met her at the ball, see? And we got along so well that we decided to continue our meeting." And with that, he turned on his heel._

 _"Wait, Allen!" Robert called after him._

 _"I thought you didn't want to hear about the ball!" Allen replied smugly._

 _Yes, it was cruel, but Allen enjoyed it all the more knowing this._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _Robert awoke long before the morning bell. His eyes snapped open without prompting as he instantly knew what day it was. Marian was due for her visit to Barnsdale. And Robert wished that he could be anywhere else. But at the same time, he wanted nothing more than to see her again. The conflicting thoughts kept his tossing and turning as sleep eluded him and he watched the shadows creep away. The early morning sun illuminated the harsh reality of his shared quarters. John Linnley, his fellow guard, slept on the bed opposite him, dark hair spread out over the pillow._

 _For some reason, Robert passed the time by wondering what Allen was doing at the exact same time. He thought back to Allen's lavish quarters. He would be asleep in the extreme comfort of his feathered down bed, ladened down with heavy blankets, lined with velvet. In his own room, there was little space for anything other than the two beds and a small walkway between them. They each had a chest at the end of their bed for personal items and that was it. That was all he owned in the world. His chest was practically empty. The one thing he favored was his cloak that Allen had given to him and he had unknowingly left that behind in Nottingham, on Marian. But if he were to lose it, he at least found comfort in the fact that Marian held something of his. But who was he kidding? She had probably burnt it._

 _This only one of the questions that continued to race through his head. But mostly, he wondered if he would see her. And more importantly; would she want to see him? Or would she still be angry? The questions were hardly the worst part. The worst thing was when he began to answer his own questions with his fears. No, she would not want to see him. She was here to see Allen, a much more appropriate suitor._

 _The fears only grew from there. Before long he was picturing them falling in love. He could see himself standing by as Allen courted her. And then he would stand there at the wedding. And stand guarding the halls as their children ran past—_

 _Robert leapt out of bed, shaking the thoughts away as he found himself extremely furious. His hands were tight in rigid fists and he tried to slow his breathing. He could not continue on like this. Allen was his friend. And Marian was… Well, she was impossible._

 _Finally the morning bell broke him from his own disastrous thoughts and for once he welcomed it._

 _Linn did not react in the same way. In typical fashion, he groaned, refusing to move. "Morning already?" he mumbled, still deep in the holds of sleep._

 _Robert chose not to answer, listening instead to the general murmurings and rustling of servants in the surrounding rooms._

 _Linn finally noticed something seemed off with his friend. "You alright, Rob?"_

 _Barely able to work up a lie, Robert just grunted, continuing to dress in silence. It was far too early in the day for Linn to think too deeply into anything so he accepted this response. "Don't forget," he said, rubbing his eyes vigorously, "those guests from Nottingham are arriving this morning. We have to report to the courtyard."_

 _Robert paused while pulling on his boots. "I can't wait."_

 _As much as he dreaded it, it was not long before he was waiting in formation with the others in the courtyard, a place that he used to favor. This was, after all, the place he liked to think of as where his life had been saved. These cobbled stones marked the spot he had first met and fought Allen, securing him on his new path. But standing there, waiting for Marian almost made him wish that the path had been blocked._

 _One small blessing was that Allen seemed far too busy to speak to him. Seeing this as a chance of redemption, Lord Steffon had placed far too much pressure on his household, on himself and most importantly on his son. Allen seemed ready to tear his hair out as his father chirped away in his ear._

 _What also did not help was the way that time was ticking on. "They're late," Steffon said for could only be the twentieth time. And for what could only be the twentieth time, Robert prayed that she would not come. Allen was the only calm one, shrugging off his Father with him insistence that she was on her way._

 _And despite Robert's insistant praying, the portcullis was raised. Two guards rode in front of a carriage and Linn stepped forward to open the door._

 _And there she was. Robert found that his memory of her did not do her justice. She was even more beautiful than he dared to imagine. She seemed radiant in the early morning sun. Her golden hair was swept back, making her seem refined. But there were still many stray curls that bounced free. Even her hair was stubborn._

 _Allen stepped forward to greet her, taking her hand in his and kissing it. "Good day, Lady Marian. I trust you had a pleasant journey." Robert had to stop himself fuming._

 _"Plesant enough," she replied, smiling. There was something about the way they looked at each other that made Robert nervous. It was as if they shared a secret. Once more, his fists clenched. Steffon stepped forward too, greeting her in a far too elaborate show of welcome._

 _"So I was thinking, perhaps an early morning ride? I could show you our lands and the nearby forests."_

 _"Yes, that sounds wonderful."_

 _"Oh, well…" Steffon seemed torn with being an accommodating host and a responsible one. "I do recall that the last ride you took was…." His voice ebbed away as he realized his mistake. His plan had been to pretend as if this was their official first meeting and now, to bring up a ride that only one of them had actually attended was hardly following this plan. "All I mean is that—uh—perhaps you ought to take a guard."_

 _Neither Marian or Allen acknowledged the uncomfortable situation. "Not a worry at all, Father," Allen said. "Robert!"_

 _Robert shurnk in on himself, praying that if he stood still enough, he could simply disappear._

 _No such luck. "Robert? Would you be so kind?"_

 _Looking to where Allen was gesturing, Marian's eyes fell upon him and the gaze was unbroken. "Robert," she said quietly, with understanding._

 _Robert simply nodded in acknowledgment, not trusting his voice._

 _Allen did not wait for a response, leading Marian away by the arm and ordering servants to prepare the horses. Like the Lord he was always meant to be._

 _Robert turned to prepare himself for the ride._

 _What choice did he have?_

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _For once, Robert found satisfaction in his position. For a servant was expected to be seen and not heard. So he rode as far behind as he dared from the happy couple. His stomach still turned with every accidental glance toward them. He had successfully dimmed their voices down to general murmurs with the occasional burst of laughter that felt as though it cut his insides. But this was a vast improvement to hearing the words spoken. But even from a distance it was clear that the two were getting along._

 _He hated it._

 _"Robert!" Allen called, breaking him free from his seething._

 _There was something in his friend's tone of voice that made Robert's head jerk up, scanning the forest for signs of danger. His eyes settled on a lone figure that waited up ahead on the forest path. He stood still, making no move. He was waiting for them._

 _"Wait here," he said, no longer caring about ordering nobility. If there was danger, he did not care that this was a Lord and Lady. And he did not care that this was his best friend and the woman he loved. He just knew that he was going to protect them blindly. His memory flashed back to Marian, trembling in a similar forest, fresh blood on her face. He looked to her now, something he had been avoiding all day. She looked to him without a trace of fear or anger. Spurred on, Robert rode ahead, feeling the warmth of his sword at his hip. He felt no fear, only the drive of protection._

 _But as he rode closer to the figure, he felt his horse slowing. Squinting, he allowed himself to slow. "Leon?"_

 _His friend smirked at him, still looking rather bored. "Put that away, Old boy," he said, gesturing at Robert's sword, "before you hurt yourself."_

 _Leon looked past him. "Are you two done being cruel now?"_

 _Robert looked back to Allen who was snickering whilst he and Marian dismounted. "What's going on?"_

 _Leon clapped him on the shoulder. "What's going on is that Allen is a horrible person."_

 _Allen made a wounded sound. "Me? Never! I said that I wanted to go for a ride. But what I meant to say was that I wanted to go for a ride with Leon."_

 _Groaning, Leon clarified, "For goodness sake. Someone has to say it. You two, meaning Robert and Marian, have some unresolved issues to discuss. So we, meaning Allen, Marian and myself orchestrated this little trip to help you."_

 _Robert stood very still. "You knew…"_

 _Looking very proud of himself, Allen nodded. "It didn't take a genius to work out." Leon scoffed loudly._

 _"You're welcome!" Allen said, still looking an infuriating mix of pleased and smug as he put a friendly hand on Robert's shoulder. Robert clasped his own hand on top, looking like a friendly gesture until he squeezed extremely hard on Allen's wrist, causing him to yelp in pain. "What was that for?" he cried, indignantly._

 _"Just thought I would reward your friendship!"_

 _"You really want to be punishing me right now when I believe you have a few more slightly pressing issues?" With that, Allen pushed Robert around to face Marian. "Best of luck," he muttered in Robin's ear._

 _And with that he joined Leon as they strolled away, leaving Robert and Marian alone. And Robert had absolutely no inkling of what to say. "So uh—" But he completely lost his words with a mixture of nerves and being struck once more by how beautiful she was._

 _"You said that you were in love with someone," she said, looking unsure. "Back in Nottingham. You told me that you were in love with someone."_

 _"It was you."_

 _Both paused, not showing immediate reactions._

 _Finally Marian nodded. "Oh, right."_

 _"Yes…" Robert mumbled, subduing a smile because he could see that she was doing the same thing._

 _Both moved at the same time. In a few quick steps they met._

 _It was as if they were once more in that garden, in that stolen moment where nothing else existed. That feeling of happiness felt completely surreal as he could hardly believe it. She was really here. And she wanted him. The kiss ended but they both remained close, the thought of pulling away too harsh._

 _With his eyes still closed, Robert heard quiet chuckles and victory calls. "You two had better disappear instantly or I swear—" The chuckling ceased and was replaced by sounds of movement and nature breaking underfoot as their footsteps died away._

 _"You'll learn to love those two," he said apologetically. "If you're stuck with me, you're stuck with them too."_

 _"So, I'm stuck with you, am I?"_

 _Robert instantly regretted the assuming nature of his words and fumbled about, stuttering to try and fix himself._

 _Gently, she cupped his cheek in her hand. "I don't mind being stuck."_

 _Robert grinned. "It won't be easy."_

 _"That's the fun part."_


	20. Chapter 20

Robin sharpened his dagger against a small stone, continuing to do so despite the fact that it had been perfectly sharpened before he started. He pushed his finger down upon the blade, ensuring that it could easily draw blood, all the while wondering what Gisbourne's blood would look like.

He had never truly hated someone before. Prince John was a tyrant and the Sheriff, his enemy. But he had never felt like this. This deep roaring fury that made his grip hot around the dagger blade.

Voices alerted him of a new arrival in camp, but he made no move. He liked being hidden away in the furthest corner of camp. He heard Friar Tuck's ever jolly voice, evidently being the one person in Nottingham who knew nothing of the day's events. "So? How did it go? Did we learn that I am always right and should be listened to? These festivals are always overrun with the Sheriff's men; you shouldn't feel ashamed that things did not go to plan."

Robin continued with his sharpening, letting them believe that he was not listening. But he had always had a sharpened sense of hearing. Even their hushed voices reached him.

Michael tried his best to sound cheerful. He heard Marian's alongside Gisbourne. The sound deepened his breathing and he paused, stopping his angry trembling to steady his hand.

There were more hushed tones and seemingly a small fight broke out over who should go and speak to him.

"Well I'm not doing it!" Allen whispered.

"Me neither," Luke said, grimacing. "I like being alive."

"I'm never know what to say when people are angry," Matthew decided.

"I've only just met him, really," Michael added.

"Would you really want the likes of me bringing comfort?" Roger snorted.

"Same goes for me," said Will.

"I'm slightly drunk," Thomas said. Everyone paused to look at him. "This was before I knew what was going on!" he said in defense. "What? It was a festival! Practically part of the description!"

Other excuses were mumbled and Robin suspected that no one would brave him. Good.

A new voice joined the throng. Robin silenced his sharpening. He could recognise her voice anywhere.

"Robin."

He could sense her behind him. She awaited permission to remain. He gave her none. Eventually she came forward anyway, walking to stand in front of him.

"Unless you are here to tell me that his wounds proved fatal, I don't want to hear it Marian."

She gazed down upon him, displaying no anger, like he expected. This was worse. She pitied him. "He will be fine."

"Right," he said as he started to rise.

"Where are you going?" she sighed, turning her head to follow him.

"To finish the job," he informed her, coolly.

A small trace of anger slipped by as she shoved him back. "Will you stop being so immature?" she said sharply.

He laughed with a cruel sound. "This coming from you?"

Her face contorted as she took several deep breaths. "You had no right to do that today."

Incredulously, he said, "I had every right!"

"I've told you my intentions for you long ago. I said I no longer wanted to be with you."

"When? When did you ever say those exact words? And if those are your true feelings, why are you always at camp?"

"I have friends here!"

"No! You have wanted to punish me, ever that since you came back to Nottingham! Well? Are you satisfied? I am in hell!"

"You know I don't want that!"

Robin walked away to slam the sharpened dagger firmly into a tree trunk. The sound made Marian leap back in fright and a few Merry Men do the same from their safe distance across camp.

"Robin, you're scaring me," she said quietly.

His breathing came in short sharp bursts. "Surely there must be other people like us. People who can somehow be in love but despise each other at the same time."

Marian shook her head. "I don't love you. And if you think hard enough, you will notice that I never said I did."

Robin began to protest but realised it was true. She had never once said the word 'love' to him. "You… You evil little… What? Did you purposely hold that over me, looking to use it to hurt me someday?"

"No! I just-"

"Then what? Was I just the best offer you had going?

Marian stood her ground, refusing to look even the slightest bit unsure of herself. "We were young and naive. The danger excited us."

"Don't you dare speak for me! You can say what you want about your own feelings but you know _nothing_ of mine."

"Then why did you leave?" Marian yelled, finally reaching his level of angered frustration. "Do not paint me as the villain of this! We were betrothed. We were happy. But you wanted more!"

Forgetting himself, Robin clutched onto her shoulders, fingers digging in deeper than he intended. She refuses to show pain, keeping her face the still mask of hate. "And look at you now. Are you happy? Did you get the glory you wanted?"

Robin released her as if her shoulders were suddenly in flames. "Leave."

She laughed quietly. "And here I was thinking that was your ability."

" _Just get out_!" he yelled, reaching a new volume he had not thought possible. Her face wavered, ever so slightly, with a slight quiver of the lip.

"Gladly," she said, turning on her heel.

"And I never want to see you back here again!" he called to her retreating form.

"Wonderful!"

Robin heaved the dagger free of the trunk. "I wish Allen had never run away," he muttered, but somehow she heard him.

She turned back, breathing heavily. "You know. Part of the reason Guy is so perfect is that he doesn't use violence to show off and prove he's a man."

Robin scoffed. "He was just as angry, if not more than me. And you know why? He knows that deep down, you are only doing this to hurt me!"

"How is everything always and without a doubt about you?" She tried her best to keep the quiver of fury from her voice. "It positively baffles me how you can possibly hold yourself in such high esteem!"

"Well, maybe that's why we made a great couple."

Marian took a step back, wanting distance. "We never should have met. We were from two different worlds. And maybe, those worlds were supposed to remain separate."

Robin stood still, taking a deep breath. He felt exhausted and was sick of feeling that way.

"Just go," he said, begging it to be over.

She took a similar breath, no longer looking him in the eye. Pausing, she opened her mouth slightly, considering.

But eventually she turned and quickly walked away.

There was nothing else to be said.

Robin suck down, head resting by his knees. As much as he blamed Gisbourne, and as much as he now blamed Marian, he only did so to drown the accusatory voices that rang around his own head.

He stayed very still, unsure if it had been minutes or hours, not trusting himself to move.

Yes, he had wanted glory. But underneath it all, he had always believed that Marian would be his too. Now he had to accept that this would never happen. And he was scared of the urges within himself. Ones that pushed him to find Gisbourne. Ones that had made him struggle to release his fingers upon her shoulders.

He had lost.

.

.

.

The sudden appearance of Robin caused a scramble amongst the Merry Men to appear as if they were not eavesdropping. Allen knew that surely there was not a hint of subtlety in their actions but Robin did not show the slightest hint of acknowledgement. In fact, he looked blank. As if nothing of importance had just happened to him.

"We should go. The day is still young. We can cover the main road. Should be a busy day. Then we'll take any spoils straight to festival, distribute it to the poor there."

There was a pause as everyone, extremely unsure, waiting for someone else to move first.

"Well? Why aren't you moving?" It was clear form Robin's tone that there was anger still deeply embedded in his tone and no one wanted to be on the wrong side of this. They moved at a new speed, working quickly to drop the pitying faces and race off to gather their weapons.

Allen hesitated, unsure if he ought to say something. Subconsciously, his hand went to his pocket, feeling the broach there. His desire to find the truth had been heightened, knowing that Gisbourne could possibly be involved in some way. A way to kill two birds with one stone. Find the truth and find a way to destroy Gisbourne.

Silently, he followed the others deeper into Sherwood.


	21. Chapter 21

If Allen had learnt anything from Thomas, it was that taverns were quite possibly one's best bet when it came to town idle gossip. Secrets were spilled and many open ears were awaiting to listen. So Allen knew his exact desired location when he set his mind upon journeying to Doncastor.

Once more, he had resolved to finding out all he could regarding Godwinson. But his sad reality was a severe lack of information. The fire had reignited within him after the whole incident with Gisbourne as he now had an added incentive, keeping Marian safe.

He also resolved to keep his friends away from his search as much as possible. That lesson had been learnt the hard way. He was reminded of this whenever he saw the empty bunk in his cabin, despite trying his best to pretend that it did not exist. So he knew that he must travel to Doncastor alone, as he sought out Roger's previous town of residence.

The Darnell family tree had been foolishly left in the archive. Leon had prattled on about the importance of keeping things in their rightful places and topped it all off by stating how they could easily return for it. Allen laughed bitterly at the thought.

The journey he faced was racked with uncertainty, but he still coveted it as a chance to escape from camp.

Robin was constantly in a mood. To make matters worse, this seemed to radiate out and pull others into its depths. No one was safe. Those infected displayed symptoms of agitated mood swings as the slightest inkling of something unfavorable resulted in pain.

Allen found himself playing a game of chance with every single word he spoke. If there was the smallest inkling of something ill placed, someone would rage.

A few well-placed words to Robin had allowed Allen to take spoils over to Doncastor. But he did run into some troubles. "Who are you going to take with you?" Robin asked.

Allen chewed upon the insides of his cheeks. "I think I will be fine by myself. Doncastor is hardly dangerous."

Robin pulled forth his sword from the hilt, causing Allen to step back nervously. "You know that you need to take someone. I'll come with you."

"No, no, that's alright," Allen said, a little fast. Robin may have been his best friend but he found him horrid to be around at present.

Robin looked at him, clearly wounded.

"… Just because you are so busy here," Allen said, with not much conviction. It was a bad lie.

Robin raised a hand to Will, calling him over to train together. "Allen, you are not going unless someone goes with you. No one should be alone." Those words hit a little too close to home. Knowing this, Robin was quick to continue. "Why is this so important to you?"

Allen made a great show of shrugging it all away. "It's not really. Nothing special. I just keep track of the villages we assist and I know that Doncastor has been neglected."

He wanted to fight further but Will was approaching. And Allen wanted to keep his plans silent from as many people as possible. Especially Roger.

Allen felt a small tugging on his sleeve and was surprised to see Much by his side. "Did I hear correctly? You're going to Doncastor? Please say I can come! Anything to escape this place!"

Sighing, Allen saw that Much was his best bet. He was gullible to a fault and would be easy to lose. So he waited until he knew Roger was assisting in a forest raid to announce that he and Much would be travelling to Austerfield.

"Hang on …" Much said with a furrowed brow. "I thought …"

Allen barked out a loud fake laugh. "Much? Thinking? Hilarious." He felt regret for having to be cruel but he could not have Much publically questioning the plan.

In his haste, he almost knocking Benny to the ground. The puppy in his arms yapped away. This small souvenir from the festival had not been well-received around camp. Allen rolled his eyes, awaiting the routine outburst.

John clapped his hands to his ears, a classic sign of anger absorbed out. " _Will you get that mangy thing under control_?"

Benny's eyes narrowed. "He's not mangy and he is not a thing. His name is Runt."

"He will be a stuffed thing if you don't shut him up," Will snarled.

Allen tugged on Much's arm harder so they could flee before a riot began.

"So Austerfield?" Much asked as Allen untethered their borrowed horses.

"Course not. We're going to Doncastor."

"But you said –"

Once more regretting his action, Allen pulled upon the tubby little man's collar, making himself appear foreboding. Much's eyes widened in surprise and fear. This was one of the few occasions where the idea of making others fear him worked for Allen and he found that he did not care for it. "Sorry," he muttered, releasing him. "We're friends right?"

Much nodded.

"So I need you to trust me. I have a job to do. And you can't ask me what it is or why I am doing it. Trust me, it's for your own good."

Much straightened his tunic and nodded again. Allen had never respected him more as he mounted his horse. "Shall we go then?"

Allen was surprised at how he actually enjoyed the journey. The friendly conversation was a nice change from the snappy insults that Allen had become accustomed to. He was almost regretful when they reach Doncastor. "So shall I wait in the tavern or something?" Much asked.

Allen was hesitant. The tavern was where he needed to go but the night was beginning and the cold was already setting in. There was nowhere else for Much to wait.

"I could help you know," Much said, noting Allen's thoughts.

He wanted desperately to be able to tell Much. "I wish you could. But this is something that I need to do alone.

Much still waited. "Are you going to be safe? You're not in any danger are you?"

Allen was touched. "Just go to the tavern and don't even acknowledge me." He watched his friend depart, counted to twenty and pushed at the door.

The tavern was not a particularly fine establishment. The whole thing appeared crippled with age. This was exactly what Allen had hoped for. He looked around the array of tables, studying the people. Much had sat off to the left and instantly forgot his instructions waving wildly. Allen glared at him and he remembered, looking apologetic as he lowered his arm. Other patrons swarmed about in small groups. None fit the qualities Allen required. He hoped for singular elderly folk with fine memories. Everyone appeared young and it would be difficult to approach in such groups.

He walked over to the bar, hoping his luck would change. A young woman completely ignored him, continuing to furiously rub at tankards with a dirty old rag. Allen cleared his throat and still she ignored him. She was extremely small in stature. Allen guessed that she would not even reach his shoulders. She had a short mob of scraggly black hair that clearly needed a wash. But somehow, Allen still thought her oddly pretty.

He cleared his throat again and she made an angry strangled sound, tossing the rag aside. " _What?"_ she asked in a rage. " _What do you want?"_

"Ale?" Allen's own voice came forward in a feeble murmur.

She rolled her eyes and crashed about, bringing a tankard up to the tap. But not before he shook a spider free from it. Despite the obvious signs, Allen thought to open his foolish mouth. "Aren't you going to clean that?"

She fixed him with a cold glance. "I just did."

He leant away. "Sorry!" she said in a huff, "I was not aware that I was serving royalty! Are these wooden tankards not good enough for your divine mouth? Shall I go and fetch the fancy silver?"

"Ellen!" An older man came to stand beside her. Their facial features bore slight resemblance so Allen assumed him to be her Father. "Remember what we discussed?"

Allen was glad for her death glare to be fixed toward someone else. Rather than respond, she stormed away, knocking over a stack of tankards in her wake.

"My apologies," the man said, pulling one the tankards from the ground to fill. Allen noted how he also did not clean it but had learnt what could happen if he raised the issue. "My daughter was rather hesitant in helping with the running on the tavern tonight."

Allen considered his words. This was exactly the type of man he sought. "Are you looking for workers?"

"Wish I could. But it makes no sense to spend money I don't have on employees when I have a small army of children that I can call upon for free labour. If only they were a little bit more grateful and helpful!" The last part was said rather loudly for the benefit of Ellen in the back room. His words were greeted by a crash of something being pushed over. "Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking of moving here actually," Allen lied. "I like the area."

"Well I'm afraid you will struggle to find work. Not much going. Although my son David could use an apprentice perhaps. He is struggling with his workload."

"I will definitely think upon that. But this is more of a rough idea at the moment. Nothing is for certain. But a good friend of mine used to live here and always told me such good things. You might know him actually. Do you remember the Darnell family?"

The man's face was an instant change from the goodhearted nature of before. "Yes. I knew them."

"You don't sound overly enthused."

"Bad business that. You say he is a good friend of yours?"

Allen nodded and noted another change in the man. One of fear. "I think you ought to leave."

"Wait, what?" Allen sputtered before noticing the two men standing near him. Both bore an uncanny resemblance to their Father and looked impeccably strong to boot. Allen knew he had precious moments before they forced him out. "Look, I lied. And I am going to level with you. You see that look of fear on your face? Well consider this, I am living with this man. Trusting my life to him daily. And I need to know is that is a mistake."

The man did not move, neither did his sons. "Gerard, David, I think I'll be fine here." Both men looked reluctant but slowly walked away, keeping in close distance.

"What is your name?" Allen asked.

"Hugh."

"Well Hugh, I am begging you. Please help me."

Hugh sighed, finally shoving aside his rag. "Well. What can one say about a man who murdered his family?"

Allen's tankard dropped to the floor with a crash. Ale poured down the wooden floor in streams. "Sorry! I'm sorry! I'm …" Allen did his best to help but he was far too confounded.

Hugh walked around from the bar, stopping Allen. "Are you alright lad?"

"How can you be sure?"

"Well … No one can be sure. But what else are we supposed to think. They were always an odd bunch. Very secretive. Kept to themselves. Strangers coming and going constantly. Didn't know half the folk who darkened their doorway but I can tell you this much, they were bad news. A few of 'em stayed here for a time." He stopped to shudder. "Right bad lot. Funny thing, I always thought Roger to be the sane one. It was his wife that I didn't trust. God help me, I regret that now."

"What happened?"

"Fire. A big one too. Started at the Darnell house and spread. Took out 'alf the village before it was done. Three bodies were pulled from the house, Belinda and the children. And then Roger disappears. Just takes off! Who does that, I ask you! He did look mighty distressed, mind. But why would he leave if he had nothing to hide? They reckon it was definitely arson. His wife was a very cautious woman, not the sort to leave a fire going or anything like that. And definitely not at that time of night!"

"And when was this exactly?"

Hugh's brow creased as he thought. "A year, roughly. Yes, that's it. A little earlier this time last year."

Allen remembered the night. Allen remembered fearing Roger. Something inside of him had appeared to have snapped and he approached madness. "He could have simply fled to avoid the memories." Allen could not say aloud how he knew Roger's whereabouts. Roger had been in Sherwood before and after the flames so the knowledge of his disappearance did not phase him.

"But to never come back ever? Seems a bit fishy to me."

"What did he have to return to? His family gone. His house burnt down. You said he kept to himself so he wouldn't have had any friends."

"Well that's not entirely true. He did have that one friend. I forget his name. Big bloke."

Allen froze. "Was it John Little?"

"Yes, that's the one." There was no denying the shudder that went through Hugh at the mention of his name.

"I know John. He is a good man."

"Yes. Of course," Hugh said, attempting to hurry away.

"Unless you know otherwise."

Hugh looked uncertain. "Well once again, I do not know enough to be of use to you. But Little was here through the years too. Just as secretive."

Allen closed his eyes, refusing to believe it. Surely John could not be a part of this too?

"Bad business," Hugh mumbled, squeezing out his rag.

But there was still something that did not align for Allen. "Are you sure that both children died in the fire?"

"Couse. Go see the graves for yourself if you don't believe me."

Allen did not know what he could seek to achieve at the grave. But he also knew that he had every intention of going. He needed confirmation that this was all true. A strong part of him still clung to the hope that Hugh was wrong. Part of the tale was already confirmed as false. For he had met Polly. So whose body lay in the grace he now faced. Three tombstones, laid out in the Church courtyard. Three simple stones marked the graces, ranging in size to show the age. Each was marked with a single cross.

And just as Allen suspected, there was more. When he peered closer, he saw that same symbol, etched into the stone. It was so small and faint that it would easily have gone unnoticed. Polly's grave was marked with the same symbol of the eye.

He sat down beside the young boys grave. Anguish overcame him and he almost felt as if he could smell smoke from the fire that took his life.

When he heard his name being bellowed, he finally understood.

The flames were real. The tavern was burning.


	22. Chapter 22

Robin walked with a definite air of complete resigned depression, scowl weighing upon his face.

John meanwhile smiled continuously and talked enough for the both of them. He had insisted that the two leave camp for a while, get some fresh air and most importantly give the others a break from the misery.

"You see the sunny day. Birds are singing, trees are growing, it's not raining for once; Doesn't it make you feel brilliant to be alive?"

"It makes me not want to give a damn," Robin said snarkily.

John grunted a laugh. "A wise man once said, the only to move is forward is to stop looking back."

"John, you can't keep making up speeches to prove your insignificant points."

"Actually, Thomas said that one. The boy gets very deep when he drinks. Spurts all sorts of nonsense."

Robin refused to laugh.

Sighing, John asked, "so how long are you going to keep this going?"

"Keep what going?" Robin said, in that same irascible fashion.

"That! Look, Rob, we understand. You are going through a difficult time. And we sympathize. But this has to end."

"No, what has to end is you telling me what to do! I couldn't give a damn about Marian. She can do whatever she wants. Happy? Can we return to camp now?"

"Ah. But see, I am one the few who realise that is about so much more than Marian. You've been at this a year and a half and you can no longer see the good you do. Because it is overshadows by your loss. Not only have you lost Marian but also you have lost Leon, one of your best friends. And you blame yourself. You are angry. You are angry with yourself for allowing this to get at you. You are angry with the others for being able to move on. You are angry at the whole bloody situation! And it is time that you confronted it."

"And how do you propose I do that?"

John slowed his walk and turned to face Robin, arms outstretched in invitation.

"I don't want a hug!" Robin said with a snide look.

"And I don't want to give you one. That was Amelia's idea. I have a different approach." Arms still outstretched, he said, "hit me."

"Aye?"

"Hit me! I'm serious."

"…Why?"

"All through early life a man is taught a valuable lesson. He learns that violence will never solve his problems for there is always another way. Well that is complete shit. So come on. Hit me! Free your anger!"

Robin still looked perplexed but half-heartedly struck John on the shoulder.

John looked positively repulsed. "I don't recall asking you to hit me like a child. Actually no. Too kind. I don't recall you asking you to hit me like little girl."

"Look John, I'm not – "

"There it is! There is the attitude that made you lose her."

Robin may have been irritated by such words but he still had his wits. "You are just saying that to make me angry and it won't work Johnny."

"True. But I also think it is completely well-deserved."

"And that is your right."

"No. This needs to come out! You left your life of comfort. You left the woman you loved. And a small part of you always regretted that. And then she was back and you simply assumed things would work out between the two of you. But all the while, she was sneaking around for months with some pretty boy Lord. And what do you. You sit by and moan because that is the coward you are. And you know-"

His words were cut off when Robin's fist pounded into his face. John was a large man and little could penetrate him. But the force sent him stumbling. His hands leant against a nearby tree as he turned his face away.

Panic overcame Robin as he raced around, trying to see the damage. "Oh God. John? Johnny? Speak to me!"

A hand covered John's nose as he turned back. When he moved it, there was a lot less blood than Robin had expected.

"You call that a punch?" John chortled.

Robin laughed nervously and pretended to not see his friends wince of pain.

"Well look at that. I actually did it. I got you to laugh."

Robin paused. It was against his nature to admit when someone else was right. But John's method had actually done him some good. At the very least, it gave him perspective.

"And you know what? Since I am such an amazing friend, I will grant you one more free blow. Just not the face."

"John, I don't need-"

"…Pansy coward."

Robin's eyes were physically raging.

"Not-the-face!" John said in on quick breath.

Robin did not hesitate in kneeing him in the groin.

It had been so long since Robin could remember himself genuinely laughing. And it felt good to feel happiness again, even if it came from enjoying the pain of one of his friends. "Allen?" he said in surprise, seeing his friend approaching down the trail.

All good humour was gone when he saw the state of his friend. He was covered in ash and bits of debris. The skin that was visible was covered in an array of deep red burns. "What happened?" Robin asked urgently, racing forward.

Allen took a deep breath, fighting exhaustion. "Fire in Doncastor. Someone burned down the local tavern. I did the best I could but… But five people still died."

Robin clasped a hand on his friends shoulder, looking concerned. "I'm so sorry. I should have gone with you." Allen barely noticed. He was too busy studying John, watching for his reaction.

"It wouldn't have made a difference," Allen said quietly to Robin. "It was someone's intent to burn down the tavern. You being there wouldn't have changed things."

Robin was still baffled. "Do you know who was responsible?"

Allen looked directly at John. "No. I don't."

"We should get back to camp," Robin said, looking to John. "We can organise the funds we have and take them directly to Doncastor."

"Much went on ahead to camp," Allen told them. "You should go and supervise though Robin. John, do you mind staying a moment? I'd like a quick word."

Robin looked between the two men, assuming the word would be about him. He rolled his eyes. News of a fire had begun to put things into perspective. So he let them have their word, hurrying off down the trail.

"So what is this about?" John asked, looking nervous.

Allen was done beating around the bush. "Why didn't you tell us that you lived in Doncastor?"

John was clearly confused. "Because I never did? You know full well that Amelia and I resided in Mansfield before she gained her job in Nottingham. Then I lived there with her until I was outlawed."

"But you were once well-known in Doncastor. From visiting Roger."

John dropped his bewildered look, suddenly calm. "What exactly is this about Allen?"

"People are dying John! Every time I look deeper into this Godwinson business, more people die! Makes me think that I am being watched. That we all are! And I have a few suspicions over who exactly is the one passing on the information."

"Allen. You must know that you sound mad."

"I don't care! Why are there secrets? What are you keeping from us?"

John remained eerily firm. "Allen. My hand to heart, I have never betrayed Robin and I never would. And neither has Roger. I don't know what you think you know, but I suggest you leave it."

"Just tell me this; did Roger kill his family?"

Allen had known John for almost two years and in all that time, he had always had a soft spot for him. He was always so kind and jolly. But when John glared at him then, Allen was a tad frightened. "That is a horrible thing to accuse someone of Allen. Don't you _dare_ ever say something like that to him! Or anyone, for that matter. He has been through enough! What happened to Belinda and Wrenne was a tragedy. I only thank the Lord that by some mercy, Polly was spared. You may think Roger was being secretive by not revealing himself to her all those months ago but do you not realise how noble and difficult that was? He gave her the greatest gift possible, an escape from this dangerous life. The memory of that fire haunts Roger every day. But I can assure you, Roger was with me the whole night. I do not know what caused the fire, and neither does he."

"If he was with you the whole night, how did he know of the fire in time to return to Doncastor?"

"That is none of your concern! But as you are are insensitive enough to ask, we were nearing the area when news was spreading. This was back when Roger thought he could keep his family safe whilst continuing with the work of the Merry Men. He never spoke of his family to you because he wanted to keep them as far from danger as possible."

"Guess that didn't work now, did it?"

The breath was knocked out of Allen as John clutched at his tunic, sending his sprawling into a nearby tree trunk. "I don't know why you have been looking into this. Nor do I know why you think it even slightly acceptable but…"

He broke off when he saw Allen use his free hand to draw the broach from his pocket. Allen held the broach high, watching the other man study it.

Even in the light of the rising sun, John squinted, looking closely. "And what is that?"

Allen was astounded. He had always considered himself a strong judge of character. He also had an ability to easily tell when people were lying. But from John's reactions, he somehow believed the confusion. It seemed that John had never seen the symbol in his life. "You don't know…?" Allen asked, slowly.

John released him, but was still menacing. "Just leave this, Allen. Do something decent for once."


End file.
